


Shining Stars

by Myrle16



Series: Stars and Prophecy [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Dol Amroth, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 42,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22548478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myrle16/pseuds/Myrle16
Summary: Continuing the Stars and Prophesy's trilogy finds love and adventure begins. Both in places expected and not. A 'slew' of new characters join the fray and Middle Earth will never be the same.
Relationships: Legolas Greenleaf/Original Female Character(s), Merry Brandybuck & Original Female Character(s)
Series: Stars and Prophecy [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1033761
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Cast of Characters

**Cast of Characters**

Dol Amroth

Father: Prince Imrahil (Mads Mikkelsen)

Mother: Ealaighthe (old english Hayley) (Hayley Atwell) _*deceased*_

Sons:

\- Elphir (Ian Somerhalder) 

  * Aislinn (wife) (Nina Dobrev)
  * Alphros (son) 



\- Erchirion (Ben Barnes)

\- Amrothos (Craig Horner) 

Daughter: Lothíriel (Katie McGrath)


	2. Aredhel

The stars twinkled overhead as Maeve lay in the strange place Nêlêl had created in her mind. The warm water lapping against her body kept her in a state of peace. Suddenly, the gentle sound of a harp infiltrated Maeve’s mind, pulling her towards consciousness. Drifting with a feeling of weightlessness, realization dawned on her that the sound of waves crashing could be heard as well as a gentle voice singing. Despite the feeling of safety she felt, Maeve knew she had to wake eventually and focused her energy on the words of the song. 

_ A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain, _

_ Softly blows over Lullaby Bay. _

_ It fills the sails of boats that are waiting, _

_ Waiting to sail your worries away. _

_ It isn't far to Hushabye Mountain, _

_ And your boat waits down by the key. _

_ The winds of night so softly are sighing, _

_ Soon they will fly your troubles to sea. _

_ So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain. _

_ Wave goodbye to cares of the day. _

_ And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain, _

_ Sail far away from Lullaby Bay. _

_ So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain. _

_ Wave goodbye to cares of the day. _

_ And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain, _

_ Sail far away from Lullaby Bay.[1] _

The moment they registered on her brain, she opened her eyes to see a cream colored canopy waving in the breeze above her head. Slowly blinking against the bright light, she turned her head to find a young woman sitting beside her, a small harp in her lap. 

“Wh-where?” Maeve’s voice cracked as she tried to speak. 

The lady stopped her playing and set the harp on a nearby table before reaching for a silver cup. 

“Don’t try to talk Aredhel  {noble elf - sindarin} . Drink this.” her soft voice said before she helped Maeve to half sit up and drink the cool liquid. A tingle ran through Maeve as she drank the contents of the cup. Once the feeling left, Maeve took a deep breath and nodded her head slightly; “Thank you.” she said. 

The lady smiled and nodded her head. “You are most welcome Aredhel.” 

“Maeve. My name is Mave.” she replied. As she did, the realization that the lady sitting beside her looked familiar to her, nagged at her brain.

The lady’s smile widened; “Welcome to Dol Amroth Maeve. I am Lothíriel, daughter of Prince Imrahil and Princess Ealaighthe[2].” 

“Dol Amroth! How did I come to be here?” Maeve asked, looking around the room in shock.

“That is a long story. One which I am hoping you feel well enough to tell your part of.” Lothíriel answered. Maeve nodded and Lothíriel smiled. “Excellent. If you will excuse me Lady Maeve, I must tell my father you are awake. He has many questions.” 

Maeve watched as Lothíriel crossed the room and silently left. Once alone, she closed her eyes and tried to take stock of her surroundings and injuries. With a sigh, she realized that the cuffs Saruman put on her wrists were still there. Opening her eyes, she looked at them closely for the first time. The dented red metal seemed to shimmer and move as she looked closer, the ring on her finger pulsing along with the movement. Dropping her hands back to her lap, Maeve slowly grasped the covers and moved them off of her lap. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she stretched down until her feet touched the sun warmed stone and she slowly stood. On shaky legs, she walked towards the open balcony and grasped the rail, looking out on the ocean. 

“Tis’ a wondrous sight.” Lothíriel’s voice came from behind her a few moments later.

“It is.” Maeve replied before turning and slowly walking back towards the bed. Once back across the room, she felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her and she had to grasp a nearby chair to stop herself from falling over. Lothíriel saw her stagger and quickly moved to help her sit. 

“Are you sure you are well enough? My father would understand if you need more rest.” Lothíriel said softly.

Maeve thought about it for a split second before shaking her head. “I will endure. Besides, I have many questions and there are things that cannot wait.” she said firmly before standing. “Though, I cannot wear a nightgown to meet the Prince of Dol Amroth.” 

Lothíriel smiled and motioned to a pile of fabric on the bed. Upon closer inspection, Maeve realized it wasn’t fabric but dresses. Lothíriel took a step away from Maeve and held up the first dress, a beautiful but very formal silver gown[3]. 

“Am I to be presented to the whole of Dol Amroth’s court Lady Lothíriel?” Maeve asked. 

“Oh, no! Just my father. And my brothers.” she added after a slight pause.

“In that case, perhaps you have something simpler?” Maeve asked.

Lothíriel smiled and set the silver dress aside before picking up a beautiful copper colored gown[4]. The simple cut made Maeve smile and nod her head.

“That one. It’s lovely.” 

Lothíriel grinned widely and set the dress on the bed closer to Maeve. After assuring her that she could manage to put the dress on herself, Lothíriel excused herself and quietly left the room. Moving as quickly as she could, Maeve pulled the white nightgown over her head and set it on the bed. After a moment’s struggle, she settled the copped gown over her frame and sat heavily on the edge of the bed. Taking a few deep breaths, she turned at a soft sound and found Lothíriel pushing a wooden wheelchair into the room.[5] 

“It is a long walk to my father’s study. I hope you will not be offended if we use this-” Lothíriel said softly. 

“Not at all.” Maeve interrupted. “You were correct, it may be too soon for me to be up and about, however - I must speak with your father.” 

Lothíriel nodded in understanding and helped Maeve into the chair. After a quick arrangement of her skirts, the two took off down the hall.

* * *

“How do we know we can trust her?” an angry voice came from the other side of a huge wooden door and echoed down the hall.

“Surely the letter father received from Lord Elrond is proof enough.” another voice answered. 

“Elrond is quick to tell meddle in our business. It does not explain why she was in that creatures care or how she came to be there in the first place.” the first voice continued. “No! I do not trust it. She is a harbinger of doom!” 

“What!” “No!” The second voice Maeve heard mixed with another unknown one. 

Lothíriel stopped the chair a few feet from the door and knocked loudly, silencing the voices inside before turning back to Maeve and helping her to stand. By the time they stood to face the door, it was being opened and the two women walked into a huge glass-ceilinged room. Bookshelves from floor to ceiling, covered the wall on either side of the door and the other sides of the room looked out onto the ocean. Stepping inside, the door closed behind them with a soft thud and Maeve quickly glanced around the room. Her eyes found four men; two of whom were standing, one of whom saw her and scowled, leaving the last man who was stepping away from the door after he closed it. A tense silence fell over the room for a moment before the elder of the men sitting rose and crossed the room to bow in front of Maeve. 

“Welcome Aredhel, to Dol Amroth. I am Prince Imrahil.” he said as he straightened. 

“The Lord Protector, Swan Knight Commander and Fleet Master.[6]” the scowling man added. 

Maeve ignored him and shakily bent at the waist before the prince. 

“An honor to meet you Prince Imrahil. I bear no formal titles, yet those who know me call me Maeve.” Maeve said. “However, I am sure my friends could come up with some if asked.” she added with a sad smile.

Imrahil nodded in understanding and offering her his arm, he secorted Maeve across the room to an empty chair beside his.

“You have already met my daughter Lothíriel. Allow me to introduce you to my sons.” He motioned to the man sitting in the other chair. Before Imrahil could speak, the man rose and crossed over to kneel in front of Maeve. 

“Lord Elphir, Lady Maeve.” he said, reaching for her hand and kissing the back of it. “It is an honor to meet you.” he added before standing. 

Maeve smiled. “Likewise. The ruling family of Dol Amroth are known to my people. It is wonderful to meet you, despite these dark days.” 

“Dark days! And what would an elf know of dark days? All they do is sit in their forests and look down on the rest of us.” the scowling man hissed from his place beside his father’s desk. 

“Erchirion!” the others protested. 

Maeve held up her hand, catching prince Imrahil’s attention. 

“Please forgive my second son, Lady Maeve. He does not-” 

“It’s alright. I understand Lord Erchirion’s trepidation. I would be wary of strangers in my home as well. After all, I have no way to prove what I tell you. Other than to offer you my word and why would you simply trust what I say? It is a bit of a conundrum. ” 

A look of surprise crossed Erchirion’s face as he realized she’d heard his earlier words. He was not the only one because the remaining man, Amrothos, Maeve assumed, started to laugh. 

“Witty and wise. It truly is an honor to meet you Lady Maeve.” He bowed before throwing and arm around Lothíriel’s shoulders before he continued speaking. “Amrothos, youngest son of Prince Imrahil at your service.” 

Lothíriel poked her brother in the ribs causing him to yelp and jump away. What followed was a moment of pure sibling interaction while the two bickered and pushed each other around. Maeve felt the smile that had been on her face fall as her mind went to her own sisters. Her expression was not missed by her companions and Maeve jumped slightly seeing a soft white cloth appear in her field of vision. Looking up, she found Erchirion holding the object out to her. Slowly, Maeve reached up and took the cloth before dabbing at her eyes in embarrassment. 

“Please forgive the antics of my siblings, Lady Maeve. They forget their manners.” Erchirion said before stepping away. 

“What about you?” Amrothos exclaimed. 

“Manners?!” Lothíriel exclaimed at the same time, frowning. 

“Yes. Manners. Something mother would have boxed all of our ears over.” he paused and looked back at Maeve. “I apologize for my earlier behavior, Lady Maeve. My politics and personal opinions do not forgive ill manners.” 

Maeve smiled and nodded her thanks before turning to look at Prince Imrahil, who had remained silent throughout the entire exchange. 

“Your reactions lead me to believe you have siblings yourself Lady Maeve.” he stated. 

Maeve nodded. “Two sisters. And please, I’d be much more comfortable if you would all address me by my given name. I am Maeve, plain and simple.” 

Imrahil smiled and nodded. “By your leave.” He said before looking across the room at Amrothos. “I have a feeling we will be here for a while, perhaps you could send for some food my son.” 

Nodding his head, Amrothos grabbed Lothíriel’s hand and the two of them left the room. A comfortable silence fell while the rest of the group waited for their return. After a short amount of time Lothíriel and Amrothos reappeared and the door was firmly closed behind them. Once everyone was seated, Maeve took a deep breath before she began to speak. 

“Firstly, I must thank my rescuers. I fear I would be in the Dark Lord’s clutches were it not for your intervention.” 

Erchirion, Amrothos and Elphir all nodded their heads at her remark. Maeve then launched into an explanation of the lead-up to the forming of the Fellowship, their journey and seperation (leaving out of course anything about Frodo and the Ring), her capture and torture before ending with her last memory of being on the boat and ‘asking’ for help. Halfway through her tale, two servants knocked on the door, their arms laden with trays of food. After the food was laid out and the servants left, she continued her tale. Once Maee was done, her companions stared at her with shock and awe on their faces. The silence was broken by Lothíriel handing Maeve a plate of food and asking her brother’s to tell their part of the story. 

“We have been running patrols on the rivers.” Elphir said. “The corsairs have gotten bold in the past year and are running raids along our shores.” 

“We were on our way back to Dol Amroth, camped by the shore when the moon rose red in the sky and we heard a voice scream for help.” Amrothos added. 

“We jumped from our spots by the fire and ran for the river, arriving just as there was a huge explosion of light.” Elphir continued. 

“Because of the raids by the corsairs, we have lines in the river with nets and spikes to puncture the bottom of their boats. We pulled on a net line and stopped the boat. By the time we got out to yours, your captor was drawing his sword and threatening to kill you if we didn’t let you pass.” Amrothos cut in.

“Imagine our surprise when your eyes opened, glowing silver and you screamed again. This time, your whole body began to glow. The light got brighter and brighter until we had to turn away or be blinded. When the light died and we looked back, you were unconscious on the bottom of your boat and your captor gone. The only proof he’d been there in the first place were the stumps of his boots, smoking behind you.” There was a dark edge mixed with what Maeve detected as fear and awe in Erchirion’s voice as he spoke. 

“They brought you here for my care. I have been trained by the healers of Minas Tirith.” Lothíriel cut in. “You were barely breathing by the time you arrived. I set out to heal your wounds, but was prevented from doing so by those blasted things on your wrists.” 

“Daughter.” Prince Imrahil softly admonished her for her tone. 

Shaking her head, Lothíriel stood and began to pace as she continued her tale. “We tried to break them from your wrists, but every time we tried they shocked you. We did discover that in the moonlight, a key hole appears, but we couldn’t pick the lock either. In the end I settled for soaking your wrists in a solution of sea water and Athelas. It healed your wounds yet-” 

“I remain in bondage.” Maeve cut in sadly. “I fear only Saruman knew where the key was and if as much time has passed as you say, then by now the traitorous wizard is dead.”

Silence fell again before Prince Imrahil stood and moved to stand beside his daughter before speaking; “Everything you have said confirms the information I received from Lord Elrond. The news of Saruman’s betrayal saddens me greatly, as well as your news of the plans of our enemy. However, we have talked long enough for one day. There is much to consider and plan. If you are feeling well enough Lady Maeve, we will talk again tomorrow. For now, I think it best if we all got some much needed rest.” 

Watching his daughter and youngest son help Maeve to her feet and out the door, a frown filled the prince’s face. Elphir and Erchirion exchanged a worried look with their father before they too left the Prince alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:   
> [1] As per canon, Prince Imrahil’s wife was unnamed. So I made one up. It is the Old English version of Hayley.   
> [2] Hushabye Mountain - Stacey Kent (The version I am most familiar with is Dick Van Dyke from ‘Chitty Chitty Bang Bang’ however, this one is lovely as well. Plus it is sung by a woman.)   
> [3, 4 & 5] Check my Pinterest board for images.   
> [6] The titles I completely made up.


	3. Tower and Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Story Line continuity edit.... 24/02/2020***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the support! As always, leave a review? Check out my pinterest board? https://www.pinterest.ca/whiterosefletch/the-stars/

A group of horses rode through the forest, the only sound in the early morning silence was the mixing of two female voices as they sang. 

_Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?_

_Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality._

_Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see._

_I'm just a poor girl*, I need no sympathy._

_Because I'm easy come, easy go, little high, little low._

_Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, to me._

_Mama, just killed a man._

_Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he's dead._

_Mama, life had just begun,_

_But now I've gone and thrown it all away._

_Mama, ooh, didn't mean to make you cry._

_If I'm not back again this time tomorrow,_

_Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters._

_Too late, my time has come._

_Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time._

_Goodbye, everybody, I've got to go._

_Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth,_

_Mama, ooh (Anyway the wind blows),_

_I don't wanna die._

_I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all._

_I see a little silhouetto of a man_

_Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango?_

_Thunderbolt and lightning, very, very frightening me._

_(Galileo) Galileo, (Galileo) Galileo, Galileo Figaro magnifico!_

_But I'm just a poor girl*, nobody loves me_

_She's* just a poor girl from a poor family._

_Spare her* this life from this monstrosity._

_Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?_

_Bismillah! No, we will not let you go!_

_(Let her* go!) Bismillah! We will not let you go!_

_(Let her* go!) Bismillah! We will not let you go!_

_(Let me go) Will not let you go!_

_(Let me go) Will not let you go!_

_(Let me go) Ah!_

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no._

_(Oh, mamma mia, mamma mia) Mamma mia, let me go_

_Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me!_

_So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?_

_So you think you can love me and leave me to die?_

_Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby!_

_Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here!_

_Nothing really matters, anyone can see._

_Nothing really matters,_

_Nothing really matters to me._

_Any way, the wind blows. [1]_

“You have very strange songs where you are from Miss Ana.” Éomer said once their song ended. 

The girls smiled and agreed. A few moments later, the sound of laughter and the pungent smell of pipe weed filtered through the air. Ana grasped her sisters arms tighter and peered around her to look towards the wall. Sensing her anxiety, Sorcha urged Brennil a little faster and they quickly passed Gandalf to be in the lead of their group. Coming around the corner they found two hobbits sitting on a broken wall just as Pippin said; “- hard day’s work.” 

“You’ve never done a hard day’s work.” Ana called out before Merry could. 

Seeing them approach, Merry and Pippin jumped up with smiles on their faces. Ana slipped to the ground from behind Sorcha and quickly ran towards the ‘boys’, while Merry tossed his pipe to Pippin and jumped off the wall. The minute they were within reach of each other, Ana and Merry were in each others arms. From her place on Brennil’s back, Socha maneuvered the mare to hide the couple’s reunion. 

Pippin meanwhile called out to the rest of the company; “Welcome my Lords - - - and Ladies, to Isengard!” 

“You young rascals!” Gimli cried. “A merry hunt you’ve led us on and now we find you, feasting a-and smoking!” 

Pippin grinned impishly and nodded.

“We are sitting on a field of victory, enjoying a few well earned comforts.” Merry said as he and Ana stepped hand in hand into view to look up at the Dwarf. 

“The salted pork is particularly good.” Pippin added. 

“No need to brag Pip.” Sorcha said winking at the hobbit. 

Gandalf shook his head and smiled. “Hobbits.” he said with a huff. “Where is Treebeard?” he asked. 

“He’s taken over management of Isengard.” Pippin said pointing through the opening in the wall towards the tower. 

After a quick shuffle of riders (Ana and Merry did not want to be separated), the group headed into the muck left behind from the battle to find Treebeard. As they approached the tower, the Ent walked towards them. 

“Young master Gandalf. I’m glad you’ve come.” he said seeing the wizard’s approach. “Wood and water, stalk and stone, I can master.” 

“But there’s a wizard to manage here.” Sorcha said, her tone making the statement seem more like a question. 

Treebeard looked from Gandalf to her and his eyes got big. “Well bless my bark! I never thought I’d see the day one of the sisters would cross my path. And here I see are two of them.” He slowly inclined his head towards Sorcha and Ana, a soft humming sound coming from him as he did, washed over everyone making them smile. 

Sorcha softly said; “It is an honor master Treebeard.” 

Gandalf interrupted their conversation by clearing his throat. The sound jolting everyone back to their situation. “Saruman?” Gandalf inquired. 

“Locked in his tower.” the Ent replied. 

“Show yourself.” Aragorn whispered, looking up towards the top of the tower. 

“Be careful.” Gandalf said, looking over at Aragorn

“Even in defeat, Saruman is dangerous.” Sorcha said softly. 

“Then let’s just have his head and be done with it!” Gimli cried. 

“No!” Gandalf ordered. 

“As much as I hate to say this, I agree with Gandalf.” Sorcha said sadly, patting the dwarf’s arm where it rested around her waist. “We need him alive.” Gandalf continued, his eyes raking the tower for a sign of his old friend. “We need him to talk.” he added after a slight pause. 

“Here we go.” Ana muttered. 

“Three, two -” Sorcha said winking at her sister just before Saruman’s voice echoed down at them. 

“You have fought many wars and slain many men, Théoden King. And made peace afterwards. Can we not take counsel together as we once did, my old friend?” 

“Counsel? You lost the right to take counsel when you betrayed the world to Sauron.” Sorcha sneered at the wizard. 

“Ah yes, the stars. Gandalf loves to surround himself with useful pawns. You will quickly find my dear, that your life is of little consequence.” 

“He’s good.” Ana said once Saruman stopped talking. “The thing he forgets is - we know your fate!.” she yelled, looking from Sorcha up to the wizard. 

“Fate! You know nothing of fate! Any wisdom you claim to possess is not your own, or did you not think I would learn that from the other one?” 

“Where is she?” Sorcha, Ana, Legolas, Pippin and Merry all asked at once. 

“Peace!” Gandalf hissed. 

“Peace? Yes, we shall have peace!” Théoden stared at Gandalf before looking up to the top of the tower and glaring at Saruman. “We shall have peace when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the children that lie dead there! We shall have peace! When the lives of the soldiers, whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg are avenged! When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows, we will have peace!” Théoden yelled at Saruman. 

“Oh snap!” Sorcha and Ana said at the same time. 

“Gibbets and crows! Dotard!” Saurman sneered before turning his attention back to Gandalf. “What do you want Gandalf Greyhame? Let me guess, the Key of Orthanc? Or perhaps the keys of Barad-dûr itself? Along with the crowns of the seven kings and the rods of the Five wizards!”

“Our sister’s location would be nice since you’re doling out information.” Sorcha said sarcastically. 

“Your treachery has already cost many lives. Thousands more are now at risk. But you could save them, Saruman!” Gandalf said, his voice overlapping with Sorcha’s. “You were deep in the enemy’s counsel.” 

“So you have come here for information. I have some for you.” 

“Oh no.” Ana said remembering what was about to happen. 

“What is that? Pippin asked looking at the orb Saruman held in his hand. 

“Trouble.” Ana replied sadly before looking up at Saruman. 

“Something festers in the heart of Middle-earth.” Saruman’s voice flowed over the group, bringing a chill with it. 

“Oh enough already!” Ana cried. “You think you can distract us Saruman? I have seen what will happen! Your master has no advantage and the only one who is going to die is you!” 

Silence fell for a moment before Saruman tilted his head and sneered. “You possess knowledge, yet have done nothing. This Ranger from the north will never sit upon the throne of Gondor. This exile, crept from the shadows will never be crowned king! Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those closest to him. Those he professes to love. Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the Halfling before you sent him to his doom? The path you have sent him on can only lead to death!” 

“That’s it, I’ve heard enough.” Sorcha said loudly. 

“Your words are poison Saruman!” Ana added. 

“Shoot him! Stick an arrow in his gob.” Gimli said to Legolas. 

“No!” Gandalf ordered. “Come down Saruman and your life will be spared!” he told Saruman. 

“Save your pity and your mercy! I have no use for it!” he sneered before pointing his staff at Gandalf. A ball of fire shot from the end and swirled around him for a heartbeat before the girls waved it away. 

“Saruman. Your staff is broken.” Gandalf said once the fire dissipated. The loud crack of the staff shattering echoed over the group. 

Sorcha looked at the door to Isengard and slipped from Brennil’s back. 

“Since he’s not going to tell us, I am going to find my sister.” she said, running inside.

Ana tapped Merry’s arm and he loosened his grip on her, allowing her to slip from their horse’s back and down to the ground. “We’ll be back.” she said before running after her sister. 

Running from room to room; they found books, weapons, maps, details of Saruman’s creations and a chest filled with keys. Sitting in a small wooden crate beside the chest was Maeve’s armor. Ana stared in shock and anger at the contents, while at the same time her eyes kept being drawn back to the chest[2] It wasn’t until Sorcha tapper her on the shoulder, she realized she’d not moved. 

“What is it?” she asked. 

“I’m not sure, but something in that chest is calling to me. Can you feel it?” she asked after showing her sister Maeve’s things. 

Sorcha nodded and the sisters lifted the lid of the chest a second time. Upon closer inspection, they found two identical keys of red metal[3]. Reaching out for them, Sorcha and Ana each picked one up, a jolt of power running through them. With a gasp, they each fell to their knees as a vision overtook their sight. 

_Maeve sat on a stone bench beside a woman with long dark hair. The woman reached out and grasped Maeve’s hand, her mouth moving as though she was speaking. A shudder went through Maeve’s body and suddenly she started to cry. Then the wind picked up, blowing their hair and a banner hanging on the wall caught the attention of Sorcha and Ana. A sea of blue with a white swan in its centre. The moment the girls saw it, the vision began to fade._

Blinking their eyes, Sorcha and Ana found themselves staring at Legolas and Merry respectively. 

“Are you alright mo grá{my love}?” Legolas asked as he helped Sorcha to her feet. 

“We saw Maeve.” Ana said. Without looking up, she slowly opened her hand to find the red key clenched in her fist. Sorcha looked over and held her hand out as well, each of them holding a red key. 

“I suggest you keep those close girls.” Gandalf said from the doorway. 

Nodding, the sisters tucked the keys away and Sorcha gently gathered Maeve's things before the group slowly made their way from the tower. Pippin looked sheepishly at the sisters as they left the tower and they exchanged a sad look knowing that he’d been caught in the Palantir’s snare. After a quick farewell to Treebeard and promising to do all they could about the entwives the group mounted their horses and left the darkness of Isengard behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen *lyrics changed to reflect the female pronoun.  
> [2 & 3] check Pinterest.


	4. Family Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuity edit. 24/02/2020. Stay posted for an update soon.

“How are you finding our fair city, Lady Maeve?” Elphir’s voice stirred Maeve from her thoughts. 

Looking up from her place on the stone bench, she smiled. 

“It is beautiful.” Looking out at the ocean she continued; “It reminds me of my home.” She paused and let out a sigh. “Being here makes me miss it both less and more, as strange as that sounds. I find that your home makes me forget all the troubles we are facing. I feel as though I could sit here with the world falling down around me and not notice.” 

“What is it like? Your world.” leaning against the rail opposite her, Elphir asked after a moment. 

“My sisters and I grew up with our time divided. We went back and forth from year to year between a large city; much like Minas Tirith, and a small village near the ocean. My favorite memories are of the village. I loved to walk on the beach, I had no worries then.” Maeve’s voice trailed off sadly. 

“You have been blessed indeed to live such a life.” Elphir commented before straightening and pushing away from the rail. “Lady Mave, would you care to walk the beach with me? I would greatly love to hear more about your life.” he asked. 

Looking up with a grin on her face, Maveve replied; “On one condition. I insist you call me Maeve.” 

“So long as you do the same for me.” the prince replied. 

“Call you Maeve? Whatever for?” Maeve’s teasing reply caused the prince to laugh. 

With a formal bow he straightened and asked; “Maeve, would you do me the honor of joining me for a walk.” Elphir asked. 

“I would be delighted Elphir.” 

Standing, Maeve fell into step beside Elphir and the two of them walked down the stone steps to the beach. The moment her feet touched the sand, Maeve paused. 

“Forgive me for this impropriety.” she said before pulling her soft slippers from her feet and wiggling her toes in the sand. 

Elphir laughed and quickly pulled his boots off as well before they continued their walk. After a few moments of comfortable silence, Maeve sighed and started to softly hum. 

“Do you sing Maeve?” Elphir asked. 

“My mother taught my sisters and I.” Glancing over she found an excited expression on her companions face. “Would you like me to sing now?” she asked.

“Only if you’d like.” Elphir replied, trying not to smile. 

Maeve stopped walking and turned to look out at the ocean. A moment later, her voice filled the air[1]. 

_I've met some folks who say that I'm a dreamer,_

_And I've no doubt there's truth in what they say._

_But sure a body's bound to be a dreamer,_

_When all the things she loves are far away._

_And precious things are dreams unto an exile._

_They take her o'er the land across the sea --_

_Especially when it happens she's an exile,_

_From that dear lovely Isle of Innisfree._

_And when the moonlight peeps across the rooftops,_

_Of this great city, wondrous though it be._

_I scarcely feel it's wonder or it's laughter,_

_I'm once again back home in Innisfree._

_I wander o'er green hills through dreamy valleys,_

_And find a peace no other land would know._

_I hear the birds make music fit for angels,_

_And watch the rivers laughing as they flow._

_And then into a humble shack I wander._

_My dear old home and tenderly behold,_

_The folks I love around the turf fire, gathered._

_On bended knees, their rosary is told._

_But dreams don't last, though dreams are not forgotten._

_And soon I'm back to stern reality._

_But though they pave the footways here with gold dust,_

_I still would choose my Isle of Innisfree._

Looking at her companion, she found a melancholy look on his face and a single tear rolling down his cheek. 

“My mother used to sing that song. How is it you know it?” he asked once he had his emotions back under control. 

“To be honest, I am not sure. I have found that there are many songs from my world that are known here.” after a slight pause she added; “I apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable.” 

Elphir shook his head; “Not at all. You have given me a great gift. It has been many years since I heard that song.” 

Maeve smiled softly and nodded before they continued walking. “What was she like? Your mother.” she asked after a moment. 

A far away look crossed Elphir’s face before he spoke; “She was adventurous, smart, funny. Father says he fell in love with her after watching her help haul a net of fish from the sea. He says he saw in that moment her strength of spirit and love for people.” 

“She was a commoner?” Mave asked shocked. 

“No. The daughter of the steward of Gondor. What about your parents?” he asked after a slight pause.

“But, that would make Boromir - ." Maeve said softly, a fresh wave of sadness washing over her before answering the prince's question. "My father was a man of many skills. He could play any instrument he picked up, was very well read and had travelled much of our world. He was what we called a Renaissance man, he believed in teaching his daughters skills that the people of our world considered old fashioned. Things like sword fighting and archery, sewing and healing. In many ways our childhood prepared my sisters and I for the adventure of coming to Middle Earth.” 

Elphir was prevented from answering my the joyful cry of “Ada!” coming from up ahead of them. Maeve stopped and watched as a wide grin filled Elphir’s face and he took three huge steps towards the boy running towards them. He swung the child up into the air and spun around, causing him to giggle. A moment later a worried voice filled the air. 

“Alphros! Come back here!” Running around the huge rock on the shore, a heavily pregnant woman came into view. 

“I should have known.” she said, seeing Elphir holding the boy aloft. He walked over to her and pressed a kiss to her cheek, before leading her over to a shocked still Maeve. 

“Lady Maeve, may I present my wife; Lady Aislinn and my son, Alphros.” 

Aislinn curtsied and murmured a soft “Aredhel.” before looking in confusion at Maeve’s shocked face. “My lady? Are you well?” 

Her question pushed Maeve into action and she gave her head a slight shake. 

“Forgive me Lady Aislinn, tis’ just - you look exactly like someone from my home and I didn’t realize that your husband does as well until I saw you together.” she paused, still staring. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Aislinn smiled and blushed. “You as well my lady.” 

“Please call me Maeve. My people do not stand on ceremony and I am not used to being addressed as ‘my lady’. I am trying to get everyone else to do the same.” 

“As you say Maeve.” Aislinn said, smiling. “Now if you will excuse me, I will take my troublesome son and leave you in peace.” 

“Please stay. I would greatly like to know more about you, as your husband has been interrogating me about my family, yet did not mention you.” 

Aislinn gasped and smacked her husband’s arm in mock anger. Laughter filled the beach a moment later when, after soundly kissing his wife, Elphir ran off with Alphros on his shoulders, leaving the two ladies to talk. 

* * *

Nearly an hour later, Maeve found herself seated at a kitchen table with yout Alphros on her lap as he finished eating the last of his lunch. 

“I’d not expected an elf to be so comfortable with children. We’d heard your people do not have many.” Aislinn said from her place across the table. 

“You are correct. Elves do not. I however have had much experience with children. I was a governess in my younger years.” 

Confusion crossed Aislinn’s face and she asked what a governess was. 

“A teacher. Someone whose expertise is in training children.” Maeve clarified. “I worked for one family for eight years and am finding I miss them.”

At that moment, Alphros pushed his empty plate away and leaned back into Maeve. The boy let out a huge yawn, causing the adults to smile. 

“I’ll take him and put him into his bed, Maeve.” Elphir said as he stood from his chair. 

Hearing his father’s words, Alphros squirmed and clutched Maeve tighter. His reaction, still his father and Aislinn smiled. Leaning down, Maeve whispered in the boy's ear and he looked up at her sadly. After nodding, he hopped down and walked over to his father, who took him away. 

“He doesn't usually warm up to strangers so quickly. May I ask what you whispered that got him to let go?” Aislinn asked. 

“I simply promised that I’d see him again.” Maeve said as she stared down the hall they boys had disappeared down. Turning to look across the table at Aislinn, she said; “I hope that’s alright.” 

“Of course! You are more than welcome to come by whenever you’d like.” 

Their visit extended into the evening when they were joined by Lothíriel and Amrothos for dinner. Seated near the roaring fire after the food had been cleared away, Alphros asked his aunt if she’d sing a song. Smiling, Lothíriel nodded and pulled Alphros up onto her lap before her soft voice filled the room. 

_Red sails in the sunset, way out on the sea._

_Oh, carry my loved one, home safely to me._

_He sailed at the dawning._

_All day I've been blue._

_Red sails in the sunset, I'm trusting in you._

_Swift wings you must borrow,_

_Make straight for the shore._

_We marry tomorrow and he’ll go sailing no more._

_Red sails in the sunset, way out on the sea._

_Oh, carry me loved one, home safely to me._ _[2]_

Recognizing the song, Maeve sang along softly, earning a smile from Lothíriel. When she was done singing, Lothíriel asked Maeve if she’d share a song or story with them. “Both pease.” asked Alphos. Laughing, Maeve nodded, her voice filling the room a moment later;

“Once upon a time in a prosperous far away land, there lived a boy. He knew only of the love his family had for him and the joy that came from helping his neighbors and the old hermit that lived in the hill country above his town. All of that changed however when a woman came from the neighboring county and he was whisked away into a fantastic adventure. [3]” 

Halfway through her tale, Alphos fell asleep. Smiling at the boy, Maeve said she’d stop for the night, to let the boy hear the end at another time. Agreeing, the group quietly disbanded as Aislinn and Elphir left the room with their sleeping son and Lothíriel, Maeve and Amrothos left together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Orla Fallon - Isle of Innisfree  
> [2] Red Sails in the Sunset - Patti Page  
> [3] Not mine. Was inspired watching ‘The Legend of the Seeker’ which is based on the fantastic novels by Terry Goodkind.
> 
> As per my “Cast of Characters” in the start, Aislinn is “played by” Nina Dobrev (because I shipped them so hard on Vampire Diaries!)


	5. 'Til the Dawn

“I am glad you have returned to us, Miss Ana. Especially as now I can thank you properly for saving my mother.” Lial said animatedly as she led Ana and Sorcha down the hall of Edoras to their new room. 

“Your mother?” Ana asked, stopping Lial with a hand on her arm and the girl turned to face her, nodding. 

“Yes, the woman that you healed in the caves. She is my mother, the Shieldmaiden Laylan.” Lial said. 

Ana smiled and gently squeezed her new friend’s hand. “I am glad to have been able to help.”

“What do you mean, thank her properly?” Sorcha asked. 

Lial smiled and turned to open a door a few yards away. Following her, the sisters found a new room with a huge poster bed and two beautiful dresses[1] draped over the end of it. 

“They are my thank you. For you to wear to the banquet tonight.” Lial explained. “I am having baths prepared for you as well. The water should be ready in a few moments.” she added before giving Ana a quick embrace and running off. 

The sisters smiled and walked into the room. After examining the dresses and setting their weapons aside, they walked to the window to wait for the bathing water. A few moments later, Lial knocked on the door. She walked in carrying two large buckets of water followed by her mother who had the same. They dumped them into the large wooden tub and turned to leave, but were stopped by Ana calling out; “Wait.” She walked over to the woman and bowed slightly. 

“Thank you Lady Laylan for your service in Helm’s Deep.” she said. 

Laylan looked in shock from the hobbit infront of her to her daughter and back again, before dropping to her knees and grasping Ana’s hands. 

“Thank you, Lady Ana. I would not have been alive for my daughter’s twentieth name day were it not for you. I am eternally grateful and in your debt, one I intend to repay.” 

Ana blushed and stammered; “That’s not necessary.” 

“Twenty?” Sorcha’s voice said over Ana’s embarrassment. “How are you the same age as Ana?” she asked confused. 

Lial smiled and replied; “My age confuses most people, but I assure you I am a woman grown.” 

Standing, Layla gently guided her daughter from the room, leaving two flabbergasted women behind them to prepare for the feast. After changing out of their grime filled clothes and bathing, the girls found they were exhausted. Laying side by side on the bed, they quickly fell asleep. Lial slipped silently back into the room an hour later to remove the water and smiled seeing the sisters. After covering them with a soft fur blanket, she again slipped from the room. 

The smell of roasting meat tickled Sorcha’s nose hours later. Blinking her eyes open, she glanced out the window to see the sun was setting. Sitting up, she realized that the feast would be starting, if it hadn’t already. Quickly shaking Ana awake, they jumped from the bed and tried their best to tame the tangles in their hair. Pulling on their new gowns, they slipped from their room and quickly walked down the hall. Turning the corner just before the main room, they found Gimli walking their way. 

“There ya’ are lassies. That young miss Lial told us you were resting, but I was sure you’d not want to miss the festivities and was on my way to wake you. Looks like you beat me to it.” he rambled upon seeing them. 

“No indeed.” Ana said grinning. “Tonight will be a night to remember.” she added as she slipped her arm through his and the two lead the way into the hall. Sorcha spied an empty seat near her brother and wove through the crowd to join him. Seeing her, Aragorn stared and his jaw dropped slightly. 

“Trying to catch flies brother?” she asked as she sat down. He snapped his mouth closed glanced across the room before looking back at her. 

“What?” Do I have something on my face?” she whispered. 

He shook his head and a sad look crossed his face before he reached out and grasped her hand. “You look like mother.” he said. “I’d not realized how much until seeing you in that beautiful dress.” 

Tears came to her eyes and Sorcha leaned into her brother, their foreheads touching. “Egleria-dh hanar. {Thank*(bless) you brother}” she whispered. 

A moment later, movement caused the siblings to separate and take a goblet that was handed to them by a serving boy. As they watched, Théoden and Éomer crossed the front of the room to stand in front of the throne. Once they were standing still, a gap in the crowd appeared and Éowyn slowly walked towards Théoden, a golden goblet in her hands. The entire room watched as he carefully took it and Éowyn moved to stand on the other side of her uncle. Once she was still, the King raised the goblet in a toast and everyone stood. When silence fell again, his voice echoed out over the hall;

“Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country. Hail the victorious dead!” 

The eching reply of ‘Hail!’ reverberated through Sorcha and she found her mind wandering to those not with them. Exchanging a sideways glance with her brother, she found the same look on his face before they too drank from their goblets. Once the toast was over, conversation quickly filled the hall before servants appeared carrying trays heaping with food. Before Sorcha could sit, Aragorn reached out and snatched her goblet from her hand. Confusion crossed her face before her brother smirked and nodded his head. Motioning behind her, he leaned in to whisper in her ear; “You have an admirer.” 

Sorcha turned and found Legolas standing with his back against the farthest pillar from her. 

“He hasn't taken his eyes off of you since he saw you walk into the room.” Aragorn added, the smirk on his face emanating through his voice. 

Sorcha blushed and turned back to her brother, taking her goblet back. Leaning over, she pressed a quick kiss to her brother’s cheek and winked before saying; “That’s the same look you have on your face when Arwen is around.” and walking away. 

Halfway across the room, Sorcha was intercepted by a grinning Éowyn. 

“Lady Sorcha. I am glad to find you here!” she said. 

Sorcha smiled and sent an apologetic look past the lady to Legolas. “I am glad to be here Lady Éowyn. The festivities are wonderful. It reminds me of home.” 

Éowyn’s eyes lit up and she grasped Sorcha’s empty hand. “Would you sing for us? The lament you sang was beautiful, and I know we would be honored to have your talent grace our halls.” Without waiting for a reply, Sorcha found herself being pulled through the crowds towards the throne. Once there, Éowyn animatedly explained her request to her uncle who smiled and nodded. Standing from the throne and holding up his hands, the joyous noise of the hall died. 

“It seems we are to be further blessed this night. It has been requested Lady Sorcha regale us with a song. What say you?” Théoden called out. 

Silence fell for a split second before a great cheer went out. Turning to face Sorcha, Théoden smiled and said; “It would seem the people have spoken. If you have no objections, that is Lady Sorcha.” 

Laughing, Sorcha looked out across the hall and bowed. “I am your humble servant sire. What sort of song would you like to hear?” 

“Ya’ canna’ sing only one lass!” a voice that sounded oddly like Gimli’s called out. 

“By your leave Lady Sorcha.” Théoden said, smiling before he sat. 

Taking a deep breath, Sorcha walked over to a nearby table and spoke in a low voice to those seated. After a moment the men jumped to their feet and lifted the table, moving it over a few feet so it was directly in front of the King. Sorcha nodded her thanks and jumped up onto it and took the small wooden flute she was handed. With a flourishing spin, she dropped to her knees, her skirt billowing out all around her before putting the instrument to her lips and blowing a mournful tune. After playing a few notes, her voice took over. Back and forth she went between instrument and song: 

_ Are you going to Scarborough Fair? _

_ Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. _

_ Remember me to one who lives there, _

_ He once was a true love of mine. _

_ Tell him to make me a cambric shirt. _

_ Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. _

_ Without no seam, nor fine needlework. _

_ Then he'll be a true love of mine. _

_ Tell him to find me an acre of land. _

_ Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. _

_ Between the salt water and the sea strand, _

_ Then he'll be a true love of mine. _

_ Are you going to Scarborough Fair? _

_ Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. _

_ Remember me to one who lives there. _

_ He once was a true love of mine. [2]  _

By the time she finished her song, Ana had slipped through the crowd to stand nearby. The moment Sorcha stopped playing, she walked over to the table and climbed up beside her sister. Looking over, Sorcha smiled to see a violin-like instrument in her sister's hand. The girls exchanged a look before Ana ran the bow across the strings and soon their voices were mixing; 

_ When the cold wind is a'calling and the sky is clear and bright. _

_ Misty mountains sing and beckon, lead me out into the light. _

_ I will ride, I will fly, chase the wind and touch the sky.  _

_ I will fly, chase the wind and touch the sky. _

_ (Na na na na _

_ Na na na na _

_ La na na na _

_ Na na na) _

_ (La na na na  _

_ La na na na _

_ La na na na  _

_ Na na na) _

_ Where dark roots hide secrets and mountains are fierce and bold. _

_ Deep waters hold reflections, of times lost long ago. _

_ I will read every story, take hold of my own dream. _

_ Be as strong as the seas are stormy and proud as an eagle's scream. _

_ I will ride, I will fly, chase the wind and touch the sky. _

_ I will fly, chase the wind and touch the sky. _

_ (Na na na na _

_ Na na na na _

_ La na na na _

_ Na na na) _

_ And touch the sky. _

_ Chase the wind, chase the wind. _

_ Touch the sky. [3]  _

With a flourish the girls slipped in different directions from the table and off into the crowd amid a roar of cheering. 

* * *

“It’s an excellent idea.” Ana cried, to the group of men standing around her. “If hobbits can do it surely warriors such as yourselves can as well.” 

Éomer looked around him with a strange expression on his face before nodding. At his consent a cheer went up and a large keg of ale was rolled over. A moment later, Sorcha appeared pulling Legolas and Gimli along with her. 

“An bhfuil tú cinnte Sorcha? {Are you sure Sorcha?}” Legolas asked.

“Beidh tú breá. {You’ll be fine.}” she assured him as she exchanged a mischievous look with her sister. 

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.” Gimli cried as he sat beside the table. “Give you a chance to outscore me.” 

“Creidim libh, grá. {I believe in you, love.}” Sorcha said as she pressed a quick kiss to the elf’s cheek. 

Stepping back from the now embarrassed elf, she took a mug Éomer offered and asked; “Rules?” 

Éomer looked thoughtful for a moment before he spoke; “No pauses.” 

“No spills.” Ana piped up. 

“And no regurgitations.” Gimli grinned before taking a sip of the ale.

Seeing he was outvoted, the elf took the mug of ale he was handed and eyes it dubiously. “So, it’s a drinking game?” he asked. 

“Yes!” Sorcha and Ana cried at the same time. 

“Last one standing wins.” Gimli cried with glee before he started to chug the contents of his mug. 

Ana and Sorcha laughed at their friend’s antics before Ana pointed her mug at Legolas. 

“Oh for cryin’ out loud!” Sorcha cried before she reached over and tipped the elf’s arm, forcing him to drink the contents of the mug he’d been sniffing. Drink after drink was passed around until only Gimli and Legolas remained in the contest. Suddenly Ana’s eyes got big and she looked over at the dwarf. 

“Gimli don’t - oh gross!” she cried as he stood from his seat and farted. 

His only reply was to laugh proudly, slap the table and reach for another mug. Emptying its contents he looked up and with a look of drunk glee on his face said; “It’s the dwarves that go swimming, with little hairy women!” 

Legolas meanwhile held a hand up and ran his thumb along the tips of his fingers. “I feel something. A slight tingle in my fingers.” he said, looking up in panic and caught Sorcha’s gaze. “I think it’s affecting me.” 

Gimli giggled and slammed another empty mug onto the pile in front of him. “What did I say?” he asked, pointing at Legolas. “He can’t hold his liquor - - -.” he added. A heartbeat later, his eyes crossed and he fell out of his seat in a drunken stupor. The girls burst out laughing as Legolas looked over and with a straight face said; “Game over.” 

  
  
  
  


Still laughing, Ana slipped away and over towards Gandalf. Smiling and clapping he watched Merry and Pippin as they sang and danced on the table. 

“No news of Frodo.” Aragorn said as he joined them. Causing Ana and Gandalf to look over at him. 

“No word. Nothing.” Gandalf said sadly. 

Ana reached over and grasped the wizards hand encouragingly, before Aragorn spoke; “We have time. Every day, Frodo moves closer to Mordor.” 

“Do we know that?” he asked, pain in his voice. 

Aragorn looked down at Ana, and seeing her nod, looked back at Gandalf before saying; “What does your heart tell you?” 

Gandalf stared at Aragorn for a heartbeat before glancing down at Ana. “That Frodo is alive.” he said, earning a nod from the hobbit. 

“Yes.” she said. “Yes, he’s alive.” 

From his place on the table beside Pippin, Merry saw Ana’s forlorn expression and patted his cousin on the back. Whispering something to him, he jumped down from the table and walked over to Ana. 

“I miss home.” she said once he was standing in front of her. 

Merry sighed and nodded, reaching for her hand he slipped it under his arm and the two walked away from their friends. 

“Your song made me smile, but also think of Rosie, then Sam, then Frodo.” she explained. 

“I miss them too.” Merry said. After a moment, he pulled Ana into a dark corner and looking into her eyes whispered; “Tell me it’s all going to be alright. That we win and get to see The Shire again.” 

Ana felt a tear run down her cheek as she stared at Merry. Breaking eye contact, she leaned into him and pressed her cheek to his chest. “Things are gonna’ get worse before they get better.” she replied. 

Merry took a deep breath, wrapped his arms around her and sighed; “That’s what I was afraid of.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Pinterest for the dresses.   
> [2] Scarborough Fair by Celtic Women   
> [3] Touch The Sky by Julie Fowlis (Brave)   
> Anyone catch my ‘uncredited’ reference?? SG-1 for the win! Jack O’Neill to be specific.


	6. Erchirion and the ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had this idea in my head to show the interactions of Maeve with each member of the family. Hopefully this works the way I hope it will…. As always, leave a review & check out my pinterest board.

Once she was back in her room, Maeve wandered out onto the balcony. Standing in the cool air, the pull of the waves called to her and she found herself wandering down the stone steps towards the beach. With the bright moonlight shining down on her, she found a familiar tune haunting her mind and so she began to sing, her voice floating away on the wind; 

_ If you ever go across the sea to Ireland, _

_ Then maybe at the closing of your day, _

_ You can sit and watch the moon rise over Claddagh, _

_ And see the sun go down on Galway Bay. _

_ Just to hear again the ripple of the trout stream, _

_ The women in the meadow making hay, _

_ Just to sit beside the turf fire in a cabin, _

_ And watch the barefoot gosoons as they play. _

_ Ooh _

_ For the breezes blowing o'er the sea's from Ireland, _

_ Are perfumed by the heather as they blow, _

_ And the women in the uplands digging praties, _

_ Speak a language that the strangers do not know. _

_ Yet the strangers came and tried to teach us their ways, _

_ And they scorned us just for being what we are, _

_ But they might as well go chasin' after moon beams, _

_ Or light a penny candle from a star. _

_ And if there's gonna be a life here after, _

_ And faith somehow I'm sure there's gonna be, _

_ I will ask my God to let me make my Heaven, _

_ In that dear land across the Irish sea. _

_ I will ask my God to let me make my Heaven, _

_ In my dear land across the Irish sea. _

_ Ooh _

_In my dear land across the Irish sea._ _[1]_

Silently watching from his place in the shadows, spy master and prince Erchirion felt a twinge of understanding as the sadness of the song washed over him. 

“Are you going to stand in the shadows all night prince Erchirion?” Meave’s voice broke the silence after a few moments. 

“Impressive. It takes skill to know I am around if I do not wish it.” the prince stated as he stepped forward into the moonlight. 

“And that is what you are trying to decide. Did you let me know you were there or did I simply sense it?” Maeve asked turning from the waves to look at the prince. “You really don’t trust me do you?” 

Erchirion said nothing, he simply deepened his stare at the elf and tipped his head slightly. A small smile came to Maeve’s face at the expression. With a sigh, she took a side step away from the prince and began to walk away down the beach. After a moment's pause, he fell into step beside Maeve. Silently they walked along the shore until they came to a flight of stone steps. Stopping, Erchirion gently brushed his hand on Maeve’s arm catching her attention before walking up them. Following without a word, Maeve found a well kept courtyard at the top of the steps. Continuing to follow the prince, she nearly bumped into him when he stopped suddenly in front of a stone statue. Looking up, she gasped at the reality of the visage carved into the stone. 

“My mother.” Erchirion said after a moment. “She was the spy mistress of Dol Amroth before her death. Her wisdom and perception was renowned. Would she have trusted you I wonder?” 

“Trust is earned.” Meave replied quietly after a moment’s contemplation. 

Taking a few steps away from her, Erchirion sat on a nearby stone bench and looked down at his feet. Glancing from the prince to the statue of his mother, Maeve sighed as the clouds drifting in the night sky cleared and a bright ray of moonlight filled the space. A light breeze flitted through the air at the same moment, carrying with it a haunting voice. 

“I beg your pardon?” Erichirion asked, looking at Maeve. 

A surprised look crossed her face for a heartbeat before she crossed the small space to sit on the bench beside the prince. 

“You heard her as well?” Maeve asked. 

“I hear her often. If I believe it was possible to be haunted -” he whispered quietly in response. 

Maeve smiled and gently placed her hand on the prince’s arm. 

“Not haunted. Loved, guided - perhaps a little haunted.” she said. 

“What does she want you to show me?” he asked, sitting up and staring at Maeve. 

Without responding, Maeve reached out with her other hand (the one with her ring) and tapped a single finger to the center of his forehead. Immediately, images began to flow in Erchirion’s mind. Flashes of the sisters in “their world”, Gandalf’s fall, waking in Lothlórien, being captured by Surman’s minion. The last image that flashed through his mind was of his family, or at least people that looked like his family. The image of them from Maeve’s world faded and he realized with a start that Maeve was unconscious and falling off the bench. In one fluid move, he stopped her fall and scooped her up and into his arms before stalking from the courtyard. 

* * *

“There is nothing else I can do. Whatever it was Maeve did, used all the strength reserves she had. Her body simply needs to heal and time is the only cure for that.” Lothíriel’s voice filtered faintly into Maeve’s conscience. 

“There are so many questions I need answered.” Erchirion’s soft reply caused Maeve to begin to stir. 

“I wish we knew if it was simply the use of her elvish magic, or those blasted bewitched bracelets she wears that were to blame for her current state.” Aislinn’s voice added. 

Slowly blinking her eyes open, Maeve turned her head to see the three of them standing off to the side of her bed. Realizing that they were unaware of her state, she croaked out; “Both.” 

A flurry of activity immediately followed her response. Aislinn bolted for the door calling out her intention to inform the King that she was awake. Lothíriel elegantly moved towards the bed and helped Maeve sit before offering her a sip of cool water. Carefully sitting beside her, both girls watched as a tense Erchirion set a chair near them and sat. Silence fell and for an undetermined amount of time, before Lothíriel whispered; “I’m going to fetch some tea.”, and left.

After watching his sister leave, Erchirion turned his gaze on Mave. 

“Aredhel - - - Maeve, please tell me I am not going mad. My mother’s spirit was present in the garden.” 

“She was - is.  Tír na nÓg [2] is a confounding place.” 

“Tír na nÓg?” Erchirion stared at Maeve, a look of confusion and shock filling his face. “How do the elves know of such a place?”

Smiling, Maeve turned away from the prince and looked out towards the balcony. “The Otherworld is a place of wonder and mystery, the ways of which no mortal can understand. Tír na nÓg is not a place the elves know of. It is from my home, Ireland.” 

“The place of metal and stone I saw?” 

A sad look crossed Maeve’s face as she turned back towards Erchirion. “Your mother said I needed to prove to you that I speak the truth. The only way I knew to do that was to show you. My world, this world, the evil that is coming - - -.” 

Silence fell for heartbeat before Erchirion stood and bowed stiffly. “Thank you for explaining Lady Maeve. You have given me much to ponder.” he said before turning and striding from the room. 

The moment he left, an icy air fell over the room. Turning to look at the foot of her bed, Maeve smiled as the ghostly form of a woman shimmered into view. 

“The seed has been planted. Give my stubborn son time and he will realize what must be done.” 

“Thank you Lady Ealaighthe, and I give you my word I will do all I can to protect -.” Maeve stopped speaking when the spirit held up her hand. 

“Make no promises Maeve. For you know as well as I that fate has a will of its own. I am trusting you to do what is right. My family must decide if they will follow, of their own accord. Now rest, you are in great need of it and I must leave before the veil closes.” 

Exhaustion washed over Maeve as Ealaighthe spoke and she soon found her eyes were closing. Staying long enough to pull the blanket higher over the sleeping elleth, Ealaighthe stood and walked back towards the balcony, fading away as she did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Galway Bay by Celtic Women  
> [2] The Otherworld (Irish mythology)


	7. Shadows of Dawn

Sorcha pulled the warm blanket over a sleeping Ana before stepping away from the bed and walking across the room. Pulling the black pants and blouse she’d worn to Théodred’s funeral on, she found a new cloak at the bottom of the pile and pulled it on. Stepping out into the hall, she pulled the door closed behind her and flipped the hood of her cloak over her head, tying the clasps in the front closed as she walked. Walking slowly, she slipped into the great hall and found Éowyn laying on a daybed beside the fire. Moving past her, she heard a noise as she left and turned to see her brother enter the hall. Slipping out of the room before he saw her, Sorcha walked along the outer wall until she found a lone figure standing in the moonlight. Walking over to stand beside him, Sorcha said nothing as they stared out into the night. A cool breeze blew a few moments later and she leaned into the elf. Letting out a soft breath, he deftly stepped behind her and pulled her back towards him, his arms settling around her chest and his chin on the top of her head. Leaning back into him, the two simply stood, until the soft sound of footsteps behind them caused Legolas to tense. 

“Síochána, mo ghrá. Tá sé díreach Aragorn. {Peace, my love. It’s just Aragorn.}” Sorcha whispered a heartbeat before her brother walked over towards them. 

“The stars are veiled.” Sorcha said as soon as Aragorn was standing by their side. 

Her brother looked over at them and sighed before looking back out into the pre-dawn night. 

“Something stirs in the east.” Legolas added, his grip on Sorcha tightening slightly. “A sleepless malice.” Sorcha felt his head move and she knew he’d turned to look at her brother. 

“The eye of the Enemy is moving.” he added, fear seeping into his voice. 

“And so it begins.” Sorcha said quietly. 

“Sorcha?” Aragorn asked, reaching a hand to rest on her shoulder. 

At the same moment, Legolas turned towards Aragorn and hissed. “He is here.” as he stepped back from Sorcha. 

“Pippin!” she cried, slipping away from Aragorn and Legolas, Sorcha took off running. After exchanging a worried look, the elf and man took off after her.

* * *

Ana opened her eyes and knew she must be dreaming. 

_ Standing barefoot on a sandy beach, she heard the sound of waves crashing and looked around to find their source. Slowly walking along the shore, she soon came upon a flight of white stone steps. Taking them one at a time, she arrived at the top to find Maeve waiting for her.  _

_ “You’re late.” her sister said with a smile.  _

_ “Maybe you’re early.” Ana replied with a smirk.  _

_ Staring at each other for a heartbeat, the sisters moved towards each other in the same instant and were soon throwing their arms around each other.  _

_ “I miss you Maeve.” Ana said, tears falling down her cheeks.  _

_ “And I you. How is Sor?” Maeve asked after releasing her sister and leading her over to a bench.  _

_ “Incandescently happy.” Ana replied with a smile.  _

_ “So they finally got it together did they.” Maeve answered with a laugh.  _

_ Silence fell for a few moments before Ana looked over at her sister with a sad look on her face. “The darkness is coming. I can feel it.” she looked away and into the mist. “I knew when we realized we were in Middle Earth that this would be hard, but I didn’t realize how hard. What do we do Maeve? Sorcha I think is going to go with the boys on the Dimholt Road, but I keep feeling that I should be in Minas Tirith.”  _

_ “I can’t tell you what to do, little sister.” Maee said standing. Silently running her hand along the metal at her wrist she gave her sister a sad look before softly saying; “Listen to your heart.” before she vanished.  _

_ As soon as Maeve disappeared, the mist formed around Ana and she found herself atop a huge black tower. Taking a single step forward, Ana heard a pained cry and whirled around to see Sauron’s fist gripped around Pippin’s throat as he thrashed and tried to get away.  _

_ Without thinking, she sent a wave of power towards the Dark Lord and yelled; “Release him!”  _

_ A chilling laugh filled the air as Sauron threw Pippin towards Ana, the two crashing over the edge of the tower and into the darkness.  _

Ana sat up with a gasp and threw the blanket she’d become tangled in, off. Jumping from the bed, she ran for the door and out into the hallway just as Sorcha ran by. Following her sister, the two ran towards the sound of voices, hearing Merry cry out; “Help! Gandalf help!” just before they burst into the room. “Someone help him!” Merry cried out. 

Ana and Sorcha skidded to a halt just inside the door and stared, terror coursing through them seeing the Palantir glowing in person. Sorcha broke from her fear first and took a step towards Pippin. Grabbing his hands, she felt a white hot jolt of pain lance through her and she cried out. A heartbeat later, Aragorn and Legolas burst into the room, her brother taking the Palantir from her and Legolas catching her before she collapsed to the floor. Sorcha shook him off and pointed to her brother who was now thrashing. The two of them each grabbed one of Aragorn’s shoulders to steady him before he dropped the Palantir and it went rolling across the floor. 

“Gandalf!” Ana cried out in the meantime, her words finally waking the wizard. He jumped from his bed and threw a blanket over the seeing stone, anger coming off him in waves. 

“Fool of a Took!” He yelled, whirling around to find a distraught Merry calling out for his friend. 

Ana carefully stepped around the mess of bodies to grab Merry’s hand, the two of them clinging to each other as Gandalf stepped towards Pippin. The wizard knelt beside the prone hobbit and grasped his hand, whispering as he did. Ana glanced across the room and locked eyes with her sister, the two of them took a step towards the wizard and poured their power towards him and Pippin. Silence filled the room for a tense moment before Pippin let out a pained gasp and opened his eyes. 

“Look at me.” Gandalf said softly to the hobbit. 

Pippin’s eyes stared wide up at the wizard as his scared voice filled the air; “Gandalf, forgive me.” 

“Oh, Pip.” Ana whispered softly. Merry tightened his hold on her as Gandalf stared their friend down. 

“Look at me!” The wizard’s firm voice called out. Pippin looked around the room before locking eyes with the wizard again. “What did you see?” he asked. 

“A-a tree.” Pippin said, closing his eyes. “There was a white tree, in a courtyard of stone. It was dead. And the city was burning.” 

Sorcha and Ana released their power at that moment and each sagged back into the companions exhausted. 

“Minas Tirith.” Aragorn said softly, turning to fix his gaze on his sister. 

Sorcha sighed, closed her eyes and nodded her head once. Leogolas’s grasp on her shoulders tightened and Sorcha reached up to grasp his hand. 

“I-I saw him!” Pippin’s panicked voice filled the air. “I could hear his voice in my head.” 

“What did you tell him?” Ana asked gently, causing Gandalf to glance over at her, then look back at Pippin. 

“Speak!” he insisted. 

Pippin closed his eyes at the memory, before starting to speak. “He asked me my name. I didn’t answer. He hurt me.” 

“What did you tell him about Frodo and the Ring?” Gandalf asked with his eyes wide. 

Pippin slowly sat up and shook his head. “Nothing.” 

A collective sigh went through the room before Gandalf stood and hauled Pippin to his feet. 

“Seeing as we are done sleeping for the night, I suggest we meet in the main hall once everyone is dressed.” the wizard said. 

* * *

“Can your potion from Lady Galdriel do anything to help him?” Merry asked softly as he escorted Ana back to her room. 

Ana sighed and shook her head. “There is no physical injury to heal. Pippin must deal with the consequences of his interaction with the Palantir on his own.” she explained. 

Leaving Merry at her door, she slipped inside and quickly gathered her things. Once her newly mended traveling clothes were on, she grabbed her healer's kit, daggers and cloak. Opening the door and stepping out into the hall, a sad expression passed over Merry’s face. 

“You’re leaving.” he said. 

“Gandalf is going to take Pippin to Minas Tirith. I have to go with them.” she explained. Pulling Merry back into the empty room, she shut the door and leaned against it. “This is not your path. You have to come after us by another road.” Pausing, she took a step towards Merry and grasped his hands. “Lady Éowyn is going to need you. After all, ‘Squire of Rohan’ is more than just a title.” 

Merry smiled sadly and pulled her into an embrace. Leaning away slightly, he stared at Ana for a moment before speaking. 

“As neither of us know when we will see each other again, there is something I would like to do.” he said before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to Ana’s lips. The moment her brain caught up with what was happening, Ana threw her arms around Merry’s neck and kissed him back. When they finally separated for air, Ana laughed and blushed. 

“I get it now. Kissing you is terrifying, breathing your same air makes my knees weak, when I’m around you it’s a tie between wanting to chase you down – or just kiss you until you can’t breathe.[1] ” she whispered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] quote from Rachel Van Dyken, The Consequence of Loving Colton


	8. Amrothos, Swords and Stories

“My sister assures me you are returned to health, so surely you can have no objection.” Prince Amrothos threw out the challenge with a voice full of mirth. 

Letting out a heavy sigh, Maeve slowly walked away from the place beside Lothíriel and across the training grounds of Dol Amroth. Stopping a few paces from the smirking prince, Maeve gave him a quick nod in agreement. “Choose your weapon,” she said motioning to the table filled. 

“Maeve, you don’t have to do this.” Lothíriel said before Erchirion pulled her towards the viewing gallery. 

“This is folly! Erchirion, you know as well as I that our brother is the most proficient - - - we call him the weapon master for a reason.” 

Erchirion smiled and turned his sister to face their brother. Standing behind her, with his hands on her shoulders, he softly said; “We do. I am greatly looking forward to seeing the weapon master get trounced.” 

Smiling to herself, Maeve turned her head to look at the pair. After catching Lothíriel’s attention and sending a wink her way, she turned back to Amrothos in time for him to hold out a short sword. Grasping it, she took three steps away from the prince. Stopping in the center of the training arena, she let the sword hang loosely at her side, waiting for Amrothos to make the first move. The prince did not disappoint. In one fluid move, he crossed the space between them and brought his sword down in a sweeping arch. The clear clanging of metal filled the otherwise silent air, drawing numerous onlookers. Very quickly, wagers were made as to who the winner of the match would be. Hearing that most were betting in her favor, Maeve made a split-second decision and loosened her grip on her sword slightly. A moment later, a sweeping move from Amrothos sent the weapon flying from her hand. Silence fell as those watching staring in shock, trying to understand what they had just witnessed. Taking a half step away, Maeve found a look of understanding on the prince’s face.

Once the onlookers had squared up their bets and left the training area, Lothíriel and Erchirion approached the still Maeve. A gentle hand on her elbow drew Maeve’s attention and she turned to face Lothíriel. A look of understanding passed over the princesses face. 

“Well matched Aredhel.” Amrothos said drawing the girls attention, before he picked up the sword she’d been using and turned towards the weapon table. 

“You as well. It would seem the title of weapon master is justly earned.” Stepping away from Lothíriel, Maeve approached the prince and softly spoke. “It would be my honor to fight alongside you mahtar  {warrior} .” 

Amrothos stilled and turned to face her. After fixing Maeve with a pointed look, he nodded. “Same to you.” After a moment's pause he added; “It would seem that elves are full of surprises and skill. Thank you.” 

Silence fell over the group before an idea formed in Maeve’s mind. With a smile, she turned to Lothíriel and Erchirion. 

“Since Amrothos has been weighed and measured, would the two of you care for a sparring match?” 

A wicked gleam filled Lothíriel’s eye before she shoved her brother’s arm from where it rested on her shoulder. In the same move, she grabbed two swords and handed one to Maeve, pulling her back towards the center of the training area. 

“Come on boys. Let’s see if you can keep up.” she called out. 

Exchanging a quick look, the brothers each grabbed a weapon and letting out a yell ran for the girls. In a move that spoke of years of practice, the brothers rushed their sister leaving Maeve to watch as she skillfully kept them at bay. A heartbeat later, Erchirion threw a jabbing swing in Maeve’s direction and she was pulled into the fray. 

“You would enjoy sparring with my sister Sorcha.” Maeve said to the siblings after the fight was done. “She is always looking to increase her skill with a blade.” 

“And your other sister - - Ana?” Lothíriel asked as she “Ana is a master at many things. Her passion however is healing.” 

“And you, lady Maeve? What is your passion?” 

Maeve was prevented from answering by a chilling wind that filled the air, followed by a haunting tune. In a daze, she handed Amrothos her sword and followed the sound. Not wanting to be left behind, the siblings took off at a run after her. Following in silence, they nearly stumbled into each other when Maeve stopped walking. Looking around, they found themselves standing on the cliff overlooking the bay. The moment the siblings looked back at Maeve, the wind died and a figure shimmered into view. 

“Mother?” Three voices full of confusion filled the air as they each took a tentative step forward. 

“How is this possible?” Amrothos asked, looking from the ghostly figure of his mother to Maeve and back again. 

“The veil is torn. As the enemy gains strength it is easier to travel between this world and the Otherworld.” Ealaighthe explained. “I have only come as a warning. The things of which Maeve has spoken will come to pass. Events are already transpiring. You must take your places - .” She paused to catch Maeve’ attention before continuing. “You all have a role to play. Do not be afraid to take your place in the circle of life.” 

A smile filled Maeve’s face at the lady’s words before she began to shimmer and disappear. 

“What did mother mean? The circle of life?” Lothíriel’s voice filled the space her mother’s spirit left. 

“A saying from my world. It means we are all connected, that our actions or inaction affects others.” Maeve said, before turning to look at the sibling. “I must speak with your father.” 

Without a further word, she left the siblings at the top of the cliff and strode away to speak with Prince Imrahil. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this story turned into a short filler….. Hopefully it's not too dull. ;) I promise, things are about to get interesting. Thanks again for the support, it means the world. Cheers!


	9. Those Left Behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah! We’re back from Dol Amroth. As we know, things are about to get crazy!! Hang on, and enjoy. Ps - leave a review??

“There was no lie in Pippin’s eyes. A fool, but an honest fool he remains.” Gandalf’s voice echoes throughout the hall. Standing near the doorway, Ana looked towards her sister. Sorcha, looking over from where she stood beside Gimli, exchanged a sad look with her, before turning back to watch Théoden as he listened to Gandalf. “He told Sauron nothing of Frodo and the Ring.” the wizard continued. “We’ve been strangely fortunate. Pippin saw in the Palantir, a glimpse of the enemy’s plan. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith. His defeat at Helm’s Deep showed our enemy one thing. He knows the heir of Elendil has come forth. Men are not as weak as he supposed. There is courage still, strength enough perhaps to challenge him. Sauron fears this.” 

“As he should.” Sorcha muttered, moving to stand between Aragorn and Legolas. 

“He will not risk the people of Middle Earth uniting under one banner.” Ana called out. 

Nodding, Gandalf looked back at Théoden and added; “He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground, before he sees a King returned to the throne of men.” 

“If the beacons of Gondor are lit - - .” Sorcha started. 

Cutting her off, Gandalf finished; “Rohan must be ready for war.” 

Silence filled the hall for a heartbeat. Knowing what was coming, Sorcha reached out and layed a gentle hand on her brother's arm just as Théoden began to speak. 

“Tell me. Why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor?”

“I will go.” Aragorn said, disappointment creeping into his face as he looked over at Théoden. 

“No.” Gandlaf ‘s voice was firm in reply. 

“They must be warned!” Aragorn cried out, pulling away from his sister and taking an angry step towards the wizard. 

“They will be.” Gandalf replied gently, before taking a step towards him. 

“We must go to Minas Tirith by another road.” Sorcha’s voice said softly in her brother's ear. 

Nodding in agreement, Gandalf added; “Follow the river, look to the black ships - - -.” 

Turning away, he fixed his gaze on Pippin. “Understand this; things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith - - and I won’t be going alone.” 

A flurry of movement followed as the group left the hall. Arriving in the stables, Gandalf found Ana waiting with Shadowfax and Brennil. Approaching her sister, Sorcha pulled her into a fierce hug. “Stay safe, sister.'' she whispered. “Also, I have a feeling you will have need of these.” she said before slipping the second red key from Isengard into Ana’s hand and tucking Galyāhan into her boot. Taking two steps away, she leaned in and gently rested her forehead against Brennil’s. 

“Thank you my friend, for undertaking this perilous journey. Be swift and safe.” 

The merras gave a soft snicker of agreement, before nudging Sorcha’s shoulder and marching towards the door of the stables with Ana on her back. 

“How far is Minas Tirith?” Pippin’s fearful voice asked, filling the stables. 

“Three days ride.” Ana called out, turning to look at her friend. 

“As the Nazgûl flies.” Sorcha said softly, lifting Pippin up into Shadowfax’ back. “Oh, and before I forget, this I believe belongs to you.” Sorcha said, holding an elven made dagger out. “Try not to loose it this time.” she added before stepping backwards into a stall and away from Shadowfax. 

Gandalf looked sharply between the sisters, realizing what they’d said before looking up at Pippin. “You’d better hope we don’t have one of those on our tail.” 

Sorcha watched sadly as Merry approached and handed Pippin the last of the long bottom leaf. 

“But, we’ll see each other soon?” Pippin’s confused voice asked. 

Merry looked from Gandalf to Sorcha before taking a step towards her. 

“Won’t we?” Pippin asked, panic starting to creep into his voice. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going to happen.” Merry said frailly, stepping back towards Sorcha. 

“Pippin, remember that it is ok to be afraid. After all, that’s the only time one will be truly brave.”[1] Sorcha said to the hobbit as she caught him in a stare, pulling Merry towards her as Gandalf flung himself up onto Shadowfax. 

“Run shadowfax. Show us the meaning of haste!” Gandalf pleaded with the King of the Mearas, before they were galloping out of the stables, Ana and Brennil hot on their heels. 

With a cry, Merry pulled himself from Sorcha’s grasp and took off after them, running up the wooden stairs to stand on the rampart of the wall. On unsteady legs Sorcha walked to the doorway of the stables and watched as Aragorn followed closely behind him. A gentle hand on her arm turned her attention away from her brother, to find a concerned Legolas standing at her side. With a sob, she collapsed into his arms. 

* * *

The next four days found the remaining members of the fellowship in a routine of sorts. Sorcha, not willing to sit idly by, found her way to the training yard and threw herself into the job of hacking a dummy to pieces. Gimli and Merry sat at a table in the great hall covered in food, though neither of them could find the will to eat anything. Aragorn rotated between sitting at the fire with a scowl and his pipe lit or sitting vigil waiting for a sign of the beacon. Legolas, meanwhile stood guard over Sorcha, albeit from a silent distance. 

It was not yet noon on the fourth day, when Lial, having come down to the training yards, pulled Sorcha up the steps and into the hall for food. 

“A deal as you say miss, is a deal. I beat you, so now you must eat.” A smile lit the shieldmaiden’s face as she pushed and pulled Sorcha to the table where Gimli and Merry sat. Leaving and returning quickly, she placed three plates piled with cold meat, cheese and bread in front of them. 

“Eat. You’ll do no good to anyone if you collapse from hunger.” Lial’s voice left no room for argument as she spoke. 

Standing with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face, the three companions looked sheepishly at each other before beginning to eat the food. Movement from behind her caused her to turn in time to see Legolas approach. Whispering a soft ‘thank you’ to her, he joined his companions, standing behind Sorcha. The soft humm of life that filled the great hall came to a crashing halt only a few moments later when the doors banged open and Aragorn came running in. 

“The beacons of Minas Tirith! The beacons are lit!” he yelled as he ran, skidding to a halt before the King. “Gondor calls for aid” he added, waiting for a response from Théoden. 

Silence filled the room as everyone present turned to look at the King. A moment later, Sorcha watched as he visibly sighed, before his voice echoed out over the hall; “And Rohan will answer!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] This is a loose reference to George R R Martin:   
> “Bran thought about it. 'Can a man still be brave if he's afraid?'  
> 'That is the only time a man can be brave,' his father told him.”  
> ― George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones


	10. For King and Country

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we’re back. To Dol Amroth that is. Did anyone really expect otherwise with all of my OC’s?? The upside of everything going on with Covid - is WAY more time to write. I may get this story finished, who knows.

The crashing waves and pouring rain woke Maeve. Crawling from her bed, she pulled a soft robe on and walked to the balcony. Standing just outside the door, she found the rain falling in a sheet from the roof, leaving a small space for her to stand on the balcony and stay dry. Staring out into the rain and crashing waves, she found her mind drifting and soon the scene from the previous day came to mind. 

_ Squaring her shoulders, Maeve reached up and knocked on the door to Prince Imrahil’s study.  _

_ “Enter.” his voice called out.  _

_ Slowly pushing her way past the door, she found the Prince sitting behind his huge wooden desk. Seeing her, he stood and waited for her to enter, the door closing softly behind her.  _

_ “Lady Maeve.” Imrahil said bowing. “I hope you are well.”  _

_ “I am. Thank you.” Maeve replied before an awkward silence fell for a heartbeat.  _

_ “Please sit.” Imrahil said, motioning to the chair opposite him, before sitting himself.  _

_ “I am afraid my Lord that there is no time to sit. May I be frank?” Maeve asked as she moved towards the Prince.  _

_ When Imrahil nodded, she took a breath before launching into her prepared speech.  _

_ “I came to see if you have come to a decision.” _

_ “A decision? Concerning what?” Imrahil asked.  _

_ “Concerning your place in the war.” Confusion filled Maeve’s face as she stared at the Prince. “With the greatest amount of respect, do you intend to come to Gondor’s aid or sit here with your head in the sand?” she asked.  _

_ Imrahil sighed and stood. Walking over to a nearby table, he motioned Maeve over.  _

_ “This is a map of Middle Earth. With what you have told me in the past few days, I have laid out the enemies suspected movements. I fear that if things are truly as dire as you say-” his voice faded away.  _

_ Mave took a step closer and looked down. The map was perfectly detailed, and she looked up at the Prince.  _

_ “This is correct, but you still have not answered my question.” she said. _

_ Imrahil pushed away from the table and began to pace across the room, his hands clasped behind his back.  _

_ “How can I know what you have told me to be true? I am not fully convinced that my son’s newfound trust of you is not some trick.” he asked softly after a few moments. “If Isildur’s heir comes - It is too dire, if circumstances really are as you say.”  _

_ “When.” Mave interrupted firmly. “When not if. Forgive me Prince Imrahil, but are you concerned that the things I and others have told you won’t happen? And that is causing you to be inactive?” Confusion filled Maeve’s face and a tense silence filled the room. A moment later, Maeve squared her shoulders and stood tall, narrowing her gaze at the prince. “My lord, you have been nothing but the kindest most welcoming host and I thank you for that, however I cannot sit here while my friends, my family and my people go to war without me. The events that I told you of will happen. Where I am from they already have. They are history to me. A history the Valar sent my sisters and I here to ensure transpire in a certain way.”  _

_ “By your own admission, a history. What would happen should you have been inactive? Or not come at all?” the Prince asked softly.  _

_ “Doom. Had we not come, darkness and death would cover the whole of the world and all that is green and good would be gone. Forever.” Maeve crossed the room and reefed the door open. “Believe me or not my Lord that is your choice, but I am leaving for Minas Tirith as soon as I am able. I would hope to have your support as your King will need it.”  _

_ Without waiting for a reply she left the study, a trail of silence in her wake.  _

A soft knock pulled Maeve from her musings and she turned to the door. 

“Come in.” she called out. 

A heartbeat later, Lothíriel’s head peered around the door. 

“Forgive my intrusion Maeve, but I have something for you that I hope will be more to your tastes. As well, I was hoping I could convince you to join me for a walk this morning.” 

Maeve smiled and looked from her new friend to the pouring rain outside. 

“Do you often walk in the torrential rain?” she asked. 

Lothíriel grinned and slipped into the room, closing the door behind her she walked over and handed Maeve the neatly folded pile of clothing[1]. 

“Not at all. My late mother had a love for all things green and designed an indoor garden[2]. When I am needing to clear my mind, it is where I go.” 

Maeve shook her head slightly and stepped behind the changing screen. With a flick of her wrist, the fabric flowed out to reveal a pair of soft leather pants and a sleeveless dark overdress. Pulling the clothing on quickly, she teasingly asked. “What makes you think I need to clear my mind?” 

Silence followed and once dressed, she stepped out to find Lothíriel sitting on the end of her bed with a sad expression on her face. 

“Lothíriel? What’s wrong?” concern filled Maeve’s voice as she took a quick step towards her friend. 

“I overheard your conversation with my father yesterday - - he really is determined to do nothing - - - then the interaction with mother’s spirit - - -.” she said before rising from the bed. “Come, this is not the place for this conversation.” 

Quickly following her friend, Maeve soon found herself walking into a huge glass atrium. The air was warm and dry despite the moisture of the ambient air outside. Following Lothíriel deeper into the room, she soon heard the sound of running water. Rounding the corner she gasped at the sight of a huge fountain and tropical looking plants filling the room. Stepping forward from opposite sides of the room, Amrothos and Erchirion silently sat on the bench-like edge of the fountain. Maeve took one look at the brothers and knew they had a scheme in waiting. Following her brother's example, Lothíriel sat in the empty space between them and the siblings stared across the small space at Maeve. 

“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men should do nothing.”  [3] Maeve said softly. “So, what’s the plan?” she asked. 

“Amrothos, you and I are going to take the mountain path to Minas Tirith. I pray we do not find it as you say it is. However, if we do, then perhaps I can be a balm of sorts to my uncle.” Lothíriel explained.

“You’ve always been his favorite.” the boys said in unison. 

“I meanwhile am headed for the bay of Andûin. It flows past Pelargir and to Osgiliath. My hope is to gather as many men as I can on the way and meet the corsair ships that will be sailing to meet the forces from Minas Morgûl.” Erchirion said.

“You realize that is treason.” Elphir’s voice floated over the group, causing them to freeze as he stepped out of the shadows and into the light where he could be clearly seen.

“Treason is  the offense of attempting to overthrow the government of one's country or of assisting its enemies in war. As we are doing neither of those things, our actions are not treasonous.” Maeve said, turning to face the prince. 

“Besides which, technically, we are aiding the King, so if anyone is acting in a treasonous manner it is father.”  Lothíriel said, anger flowing from her in waves. 

“Peace sister, I’ve come to help.” Elphir said as he walked over to the group. “He will not be happy, but you are correct. We must aid the King.” 

Silence fell for a moment before Maeve turned to Erchirion and pointed to the map he held in his hands.  [4]

“You will meet a small company just before you reach Pelargir. The rangers will be gathered just outside of Pelargir waiting for the King.” 

“How will we know him? I’ve never met Isildur’s heir.” Erchirion asked as he looked up from the map and over at Maeve. 

The elf smiled and a faraway look crossed her face. “Be wary of the company you keep for they are a reflection of who you are, or who you want to be.” [5] Maeve said softly. Coming back to the present, she found four confused faces looking at her and she smiled. “If nothing else gives it away, you will know him by his friends. He will be travelling with an elf, a dwarf - - and my sister.” 

With their plans in place, Maeve left the siblings alone and headed back to her room. Remembering, once she was there, she had no belongings to pack. She was surprised to hear a knock at her door a moment later and Lothíriel peek her head into the room. 

“Ah, good, you are here.” she said stepping into the room with her arms full of cloth. Setting the bundle on the bed, she revealed a sarm looking cloak, a bow and quiver, as well as a short sword and small dagger. 

“These belonged to my mother. She passed them on to me before she died, I think that she would want you to have them.” 

“Lothíriel, I cannot - - -” Maeve started. 

“At least for the duration of our journey. Something tells me that you will soon have your own weapons back. Now, we must get ready for dinner. Father is expecting us and we can’t let him think anything is amiss.” 

Amused, Maeve laughed as Lothíriel pulled a beautiful red and cream gown from under the cloak. With a flourishing shake, she laid it on the bed, gave Maeve a bow and skipped from the room. Carefully folding and hiding the weapons and cloak under the bed, Maeve slipped behind the changing screen and into the dress. Upon exiting her room, she found prince Erchirion waiting for her. 

“Aredhel - - Lady Maeve. I would be honored to escort you to dinner.” he said with a bow. 

“You and your sister - - - if I’d have known all it took for you to be this happy was to have a scheme in the works, we’d have planned one when I first arrived.” she whispered as she took his arm and the duo set off down the hall. 

* * *

Returning to her room after a tense dinner, Maeve silently dressed in her new ‘travel garb’, and pulled a chair into the darkest corner of the room to wait. A few hours later, when the sounds of the palace were silent, the door to her room opened a crack and Lothíriel slipped inside. Rising from her place in the shadows, the movement caught her companions attention and the girls exchanged a silent nod. Following her lead, Maeve was shocked when Lothíriel walked across the room and pressed her hand to the wall. Without a sound, a hidden door appeared and Maeve could see Erchirion and Amrothos waiting in the darkness of the corridor beyond. Without looking, she silently followed the siblings down the corridor. No one made a sound as they wound their way through the secret path inside the palace walls, until Erchirion stopped and pulled a leaver on the wall. The wall opened to reveal the field beyond the palace walls. Stepping out into the night, the group quickly moved through the shadows of the cloudy night and into the trees on the other side of the field. There, Maeve was surprised to find a large group of men waiting. They immediately began to disperse into the woods and down the hill towards the river. Quickly embracing his siblings and bowing to Maeve, Erchirion followed his men into the darkness leaving Maeve, Lothíriel and Amrothos standing alone. A soft sound to her right caused Maeve to look over and smile. Standing just off to the side, three very dark colored horses stood. Walking over, Maeve stood before the horses and softly began to speak; 

_ Anol shalom _

_ Anol sheh ley kon-nud de ne um. _

_ Flavum. _

_ Flavum. _

_ M-ai shondol-lee _

_ Flavu… {Live on…} _

_ Lof flesh lay _

_ Nof ne _

_ Nom de lis _

_ Ham de num um dass _

_ La um de _

_ Flavne… _

_ Flay _

_ Shom de nomm _

_ Ma-lun des _

_ Dwondi. _

_ Dwwoondi _

_ Alas sharum du koos _

_ Shaley koot-tum. [6] _

Silently one of the horses walked forward and nuzzled her outstretched hand. A smile filled Maeve’s face before she swung herself up and onto the horses back. Following her example, the siblings quickly mounted the other horses and with one more look at their home, the group took off into the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Maeve’s clothes - pinterest - https://www.pinterest.ca/whiterosefletch/the-stars/  
> [2] The glass garden - pinterest - https://www.pinterest.ca/whiterosefletch/the-stars/  
> [3] The famous quote attributed to Edmund Burke - This is apparently this is one of the most mis-quoted and mis-referenced quotes in history.  
> [4] the map: http://lotrproject.com/map/#zoom=3&lat=-1315.5&lon=1500&layers=BTTTTT  
> [5] Kenneth G. Ortiz  
> [6] Now We are Free - song. Written by Hanz Zimmer, performed by Lisa Kelly of Celtic Women. (This is the second half of the song.  
> Translation:  
> Almighty freedom  
> Almighty freer of the soul  
> Be free  
> Be free  
> And imagine  
> Free with peace at last  
> It's lovely  
> It's lovely, this land  
> No one can believe or understand  
> How far I came just for my lovely family  
> I should have been there  
> with them when the world crashed down  
> But now they rest with me.  
> I'll never forget  
> How I felt that moment  
> I became Free.


	11. We'll Meet Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter contains the most artistic licence yet. Hopefully it's not too far fetched. Enjoy and as always, please leave a review.

Three days later, the group arrived at the base of the Nimrais mountains. After collecting their supplies, and sending the horses off, they made camp to rest for a short while. 

“This place is so strange.” Amrothos said as he sat looking up at the mountains. 

“Ethereal.” Lothíriel said, nodding her head in agreement. 

“We have to wait for dawn. The door won’t be visible till’ then. So you two may as well get some rest. The last leg of our journey will be long.” Maeve said. “I’ll keep watch.” 

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep.” Amrothos mumbled softly, earning a small smile from his sister. 

Not saying anything, Maeve looked up at the moon shining faintly in the sky and began to hum a soft tune. A moment later, she was softly singing, her voice lulling her companions to sleep. 

_When the shadows unfold_

_When the sun hides its gold_

_When the wind and the cold come calling_

_When the path isn't clear_

_And the stars disappear_

_As an endless midnight's falling_

_At the edge of the sky_

_There's a moon hangin' high_

_When you're lost, it'll try to remind you_

_On a dark desert night_

_You can look to the light_

_'Cause it's shining there to find you_

_Desert moon light the way_

_'Til the dark turns to day_

_Like a lamp in the lonely night_

_Bright and blue_

_Desert moon, wild and free_

_Will it burn just for me?_

_Shine down, shine down_

_'Til I find my way to you_

_At the edge of the sky_

_There's a moon hangin' high_

_When you're lost, you can try the view_

_'Cause it waits for you there_

_And if you see it too_

_I can find my way_

_I can find my way_

_I can find my way to you_ [3] 

When Maeve woke her friends a few hours later, they were both shocked to find the early rays of pre-dawn chasing the darkness from the sky. As soon as they were all standing and all evidence of their camp had been hidden, Maeve led them up a rocky path to a small ledge. The moment they stopped, the first light of dawn peeked over the mountains and hit the stone. A heartbeat later, a shimmering light reflected from the stone and an image appeared[4]. 

Lothíriel let out an awe filled gasp and took a tentative step towards the now visible doorway. “Mithril - - - This tree in the center is the white tree of Gondor. These others, I do not know however.” 

“They are the Two Trees of Valinor.” Maeve said with a faraway expression on her face. “They are the beginning or all things.” A shiver went up her spine and she took a shuddering step back from the stone. “Only the blood of Kings can open the door.” 

Confusion filled her companions' faces as Maeve turned to look at them and pulled a small pin from her cloak. Without explaining, she gently reached out and grasped Amrothos’ wrist. Whispering a soft apology, she poked his finger with the pin, causing a single drop of blood to appear. Following suit with Lothíriel, she then pressed their hands to the wall. One on each of the Valinor trees. A soft sighing sound was heard, and suddenly the image of the tree of Gondor split in two, and the great stone door swung silently inward. 

“That’s why you insisted the three of us travel together. The Valinor trees are male and female.” Amrothos said as they walked into the darkness of the tunnel beyond. With a soft swish, the door closed behind the group and Maeve flicked her wrist, softly murmuring ‘cinta cala’[5]. A heartbeat later, a soft blue orb of light appeared above each of their heads. 

“That and you are descendants from the Kings of old. I hoped that one of the two criteria would open the door.” Maeve said. “Now, If we hurry, we should reach the first post rather quickly.” 

Not waiting for her companions, Maeve started off down the tunnel. 

“Post? What are you talking about? How did you know this was here?” Lothíriel asked as she caught up with Maeve. 

“Tunnel, I suppose is not accurate. Welcome to the Gondolin road . It connects all seven of the beacon stations.” Maeve explained. 

“Amon Dîn, Eilenach, Nardol, [ Er ](http://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Erelas) e [ las ](http://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Erelas), Min-Rimmon, Calenhad and Amon Anwar.’ Amrothos said, listing off the beacon’s. 

“Indeed. They are manned, at least the northern ones are by men on Gondor. If the beacon has not been lit, then I hope to find soldiers who can point us in the correct direction.” 

“Do you really think that our uncle will order the beacons lit and send for aid?” Lothíriel asked softly. 

Maeve sighed and stopped walking to turn and face her friends. A sad look crossed her face before she spoke; “You must be prepared. The uncle that you knew, I fear is gone. The loss of your cousin, the rumors of Elendil, the seeing stone, these will all have contributed to a very fragile state of mind.” 

“I pray we do not find things as bleak as you say they will be.” Amrothos said quietly before squaring his shoulders and pushing past Maeve into the darkness. 

“Halt! In the name of the King, who goes there!?” a voice echoed out of the darkness. 

“Two swans and a tree.” Maeve called out. As she was speaking, Maeve tapped her ring three times and the soft light exploded, filling the tunnel in a wash of blue light. 

Lothíriel hissed and drew her sword, taking a step forward, she pointed it at the soldier now visible pointing an arrow at her brother. 

“Peace. We mean you no ill, we are friends - kin of Gondor. This is Lothíriel and Amrothos of Dol Amroth.” Maeve explained. 

The soldier gasped and took a step back, putting the arrow back into his quiver at the same moment. A heartbeat later, he was bowing deeply to the siblings. 

“Forgive me, m’lord. M’lady. We do not have travelers on the Gondolin road that are not come to take up a post.” Rising, he looked past the sibling at Maeve. “Who is this that speaks on your behalf and what are you doing here?” he added, looking at Amrothos. 

“We come bearing a message for the Stewart and seek the fastest route to Minas Tirith.” Lothíriel explained, putting her sword away. 

“This is our guide.” Amrothos explained, motioning Maeve forward who removed her hood from her head as she stepped forward. “Adedhel of the Golden Wood.” 

A look of awe crossed the man’s face and he dropped to his knees. “Adedhel.” he whispered. “It is an honor. Alda, son of Aldaron at your service.” 

Smiling, Maeve reached out and offered the man her hand. “On your feet soldier.” she said, helping him to stand. “It is a pleasure to meet you Alda.” Maeve replied softly. 

Giving a jerky nod and taking a small step backwards, Alda took a visibly deep breath before saying; “Come. I will take you to the bend in the road.” 

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked into the darkness, quickly followed by Amrothos, Lothíriel and Maeve. After walking in silence for an unknown amount of time, Alda slowed and tapped the wall. Suddenly, the darkness in front of them shifted and the light from torches appeared. 

“Alda returns with the delegation from Dol Amroth.” their guide called out. 

“What in Arda would make you act so formal lad?” An elderly man asked as he walked forward and eyed the group. 

“Captain Mith, may I present Princess Lothíriel and Prince Amrothos of Dol Amroth and their companion Adedhel of the Golden Wood.” Alda spoke out clearly as he motioned to the group. 

A soft murmur went through the small group of soldiers before the captain gave a nod of understanding. 

“You have come to take the Talta Lant [7] to Minas Tirith.” the captain said without question. “Come.” 

“Talta lant?” Lothíriel whispered, looking in confusion from her brother to Maeve. 

“The Talta Lant is an intricate connection of stairs and slides that connect the seven beacon stations.” 

“Aredhel speaks true. How is it that you know of Gondor’s secret?” Alda asked as they were led deeper into the darkness. 

“My kin helped in its creation.” Maeve explained. 

Silence fell for a moment before the captain’s voice broke the silence. “Here we must part. The steps lie directly ahead.” After a moment’s pause, he looked at Maeve and softly said; “I feel I must advise against this Aredhel. The Talta Lanta is used to transport supplies, in my knowledge it has never been used for transporting living beings.” 

Maeve smiled and softly grasped the captain's arm. “Thank you for your warning Captain Mith, but I fear the urgency of our quest overshadows any semblance of safety we might otherwise posses.” 

The captain gave her a curt nod, before turning to her companions. “M’lord, m’lady, blessings on your journey.” he said before he and Alda disappeared back the way they’d come. 

“What is it with this world and darkness, stairs and tunnels?” Maeve muttered as she led the way up the winding stairway. 

“Is this really as dangerous as Captain Mith said?” Amrothos asked as they climbed. 

“Just because something has never been done, does not mean it can’t be done. This is the fastest way to get to Minas Tirith.” Maeve replied as she stepped up the last step and onto a large platform. The siblings looked around the small space, seeing only crates and barrels, exchanged a worried look. 

“Now what? Lothíriel asked. 

“Now for the fun part.” Maeve said. 

Quickly explaining how to connect three large crates and barrels together, the group got to work. After nearly an hour of work, they stepped back from their creation and Maeve smiled. 

“Well, it’s not much, but it’ll work.” she said before stepping towards their snake-like creation. Running the hand that held her ring across each piece, she softly murmured a string of elvish before stepping back and nodding. 

“That’s as good as it’s going to get. Lothíriel, if you will climb into the middle section, then I will be in the front and Amrothos in the back.” Maeve waited for her friends to follow her instructions. 

Once Lothíriel was tucked into her barrel, Maeve and Amrothos maneuvered the chain of wood towards the edge of the platform where the stone slide disappeared into the darkness. After giving her friend a nod, she climbed into her barrel and he did the same. 

“Three, two, one, now!” Maeve called out. 

A moment later, the contraption moved as all three shifted their weight forward and they were plummeting down the slide and into the darkness.

* * *

Over and over they repeated the process. Slide down, climb the stairs, build a new contraption. Until the fourth slide found them in the company of a group of soldiers. 

“Captain Gara at your service, Aredhel. Captain Mith sent word to expect you.” He added, helping the trio from their contraption. “This contraption you have created, it has worked well, does it have a name?”

Maeve smiled and looked at her companions before replying; “It was modelled after something from my home, devices called a bobsleigh and a roller-coaster.”

“Bobsleigh - roller-coaster- .” Lothíriel and Amrothos muttered together before shaking their heads and pulling their weapons and bags from the creation. . 

“I see - well, come. The last leg of your journey is before you.” Captain Gara said. 

Turning, he led them down a well lit tunnel before stopping at the end. Reaching out and pushing a few stones into the wall, the dead end soon slid open to reveal the sky beyond, lit with the early light of dawn. Taking a step back, he bowed. “The path beyond will lead you down to Minas Tirith.” he said before the trio thanked him and walked past. Once standing on the mountain path, the stone doorway closed. Looking to the east, the group found the fires of Mordor burned like an evil beacon in the night. 

“Ever has the great city dwelt in the shadow of that evil.” Lothíriel murmured. 

“Ever has the blood of Gondor defended against it.” Amrothos added, reaching out to grasp his sister's hand. 

“Yet hope remains that one day the evil will forever be vanquished.” Maeve said before walking down the path towards the city. Exchanging a sad look, the sibling followed her. 

By the time they reached the mountain gate, the light of the midday sun was lighting the sky. Amrothos went ahead of the girls and spoke with the guards for passage into the city. Once they were through the gates, they quickly walked through the highest level towards the King’s tower. Rounding the corner they found themselves on the opposite side of the courtyard from three figures. 

With a smile, Maeve called out; “Fancy meeting you here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] - J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit, or There and Back Again  
> [2] - Robin Sloan, Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore  
> [3] - Desert Moon from Aladdin 2019  
> [4] - Check out my pinterest board for an image of this, as my description is wholly inaccurate.  
> [5] - small light.  
> [7] - Gnomish slide road.  
> There is another reference to the lovely Diana Gabaldon’s ‘Outlander Series’ in this chapter. Anyone catch it?


	12. The White City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK. Wow. I didn't realize until I got started posting this chapter just how long it is. It is my longest to date. Please don't expect them all to be this way. lol. Enjoy. Oh, and please leave a review.

The figures froze and turned towards her voice. “Maeve?!” Pippin cried out as he ran towards her. Dropping to her knees, she was soon wrapped in a crushing embrace from the hobbit. After returning the hug, Maeve pulled back and Pippin, blushing, took a step backwards. At the same time, Ana took a step closer to her sister and smacked her on the arm - hard. 

“Ow! cad é an ifreann, Ana? {Ow! What the hell, Ana?}” Maeve said before her sister flung herself at her with a sob. 

“Ní dóigh liom go bhfeicfinn tú arís.{I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.}” Ana whispered. 

Not able to form a reply, Maeve simply hugged her sister tighter before Gandalf’s voice drew their attention. 

“It would seem my dear that you have a tale to tell. However, we must speak with lord Denethor.” 

“What business do you have with our uncle Mithrandir?” Amrothos asked. 

“The same as us.” Maeve cut in, standing. 

“Ana, Pippin, Gandalf, may I present Amrothos and Lothíriel of Dol Amroth. Lothíriel, Amrothos, meet Peregrin Took, Gandalf the Grey and my sister - Ana.” Maeve pointed to everyone as she spoke. 

Silence fell for a moment before Ana stepped towards the siblings. “Thank you, for everything you’ve done for my sister.” 

“Yes, yes. There will be time for that later. Come.” Gandalf said before turning and walking across the courtyard. Quickly following the wizard, the group stumbled to a stop when Gandalf quickly turned to face them. 

“Gandalf, perhaps we should send Amrothos and Lothíriel first. I hoped that Lord Denethor would be more perceptive to our news if it came from them.” Maeve said before he could speak, looking at the wizard. 

“Denethor?” Pippin asked, being the only member of the group to not know who the man in question was. 

With a sigh, Gandalf looked down at Pippin. “Listen carefully. Lord Denethor is Boromir’s father. To give him news of his beloved son’s death would be most unwise.” 

“We’d better not mention Frodo, or the -.” Ana added, then cut off, looking at the siblings from Dol Amroth. 

“Maeve told us.” Lothíriel said quickly. “I agree. For now it is best to not tell him of your quest.” 

“And perhaps, we should say nothing of Aragorn either.” Amrothos added. “Uncle has ever been bitter towards the line of Kings and news of the King’s return will not bode well with him.” 

Without a further word, the siblings walked past their companions and through the doors into the throne room. After exchanging a knowing look with Gandalf and Maeve, Ana grabbed Pippin’s arm. “Maybe, it would be best to remain silent Pippin.” she said, her tone leaving no room for a question. Giving her a nod, the four followed the siblings into the throne room. 

The delay allowed the siblings to cross the room towards their uncle, however, the happy reunion was snuffed out by the sight of Denethor’s hunched form on his chair. 

“Hail Denethor, son of Ecthelion, Lord and Steward of Gondor.” Gandalf’s voice echoed out through the room. “We come with tidings in this dark hour. And with counsel.” 

“Perhaps you come to explain this?” Denethor hissed as he held up the broken horn of Gondor. 

Pippin’s eyes went wide and Maeve watched as all the color left Lothíriel and Amrothos’ faces. “Perhaps you come to tell me why my son is dead?” Denethor’s voice dripped with anger as he glared at Gandalf. 

“Uncle-” Lothíriel started to speak and take a step towards Denethor but froze in place when Pippin’s voice filled the room. 

“Boromir died to save us. My kinsman and me.” Pippin said as he wove through the group to kneel in front of the Steward. “He failed defending us from many foes.” Pippin added. 

“Pippin -.” Gandalf, Ana and Maeve all spoke out trying to stop the hobbit. 

Looking up at the Steward, Pippin took a visible breath before speaking again; “I offer you my service, such as it is, in payment of this debt.” 

“Foolhardy indeed.” Ana muttered. 

“This is my first command to you.” Denthor sneered at Pippin. “How did you escape and my son did not, so mighty a man as he was?” 

“Uncle - ” Lothíriel’s voice was full of confusion as she took a small step towards the throne, only to stop when Denethor turned his glare on her. 

“The mightiest man may be slain by one arrow, Boromir was pierced by many.” Pippin replied softly. 

“Come Pip.” Ana said, pulling Pippin to his feet to stand between her and Maeve, who rested a comforting hand on the hobbit’s shoulder. 

Gandalf meanwhile stepped closer to Denethor before speaking; “My lord, there will be a time to grieve for Boromir, but it is not now.” 

Lothíriel and Amrothos turned their shocked gazes on the wizard, before Lothíriel took a step towards Maeve and Amrothos towards his uncle. 

“War is coming uncle. The enemy is on your doorstep.” Amrothos said before Gandalf cut the prince off. 

“As steward, you are charged with the defense of this city. Where are Gondor’s armies?” the wizard asked.

“You still have friends, you are not alone in this fight uncle. Dol Amroth-” Amrothos said before Denethor cut him off. 

“Dol Amroth! Your cursed city took the jewel of Gondor and killed her. I would not accept aid from your father were it offered.” Denethor hissed, glaring at his nephew before whirling his gaze on Gandalf. 

“You would suggest, Mithrandir-.” the man sneered. “That I send word to Rohan?” 

“Light the beacon's uncle. Please.” Lothíriel whispered, her words caused Denethor to soften his gaze and look at her for a heartbeat before he again glared at Gandalf. 

“You think you are wise Mithrandir, yet for all your subtleties, you have not wisdom. Bringing my niece and nephew here in an attempt to sway me to your will? Do you think the eyes of the White Tower are blind? I have seen more than you know. With your left hand you would use me as a shield against Mordor and with your right you would seek to supplant me. I know who rides with Théoden of Rohan. Oh, yes! Word has reached my ears of this Aragorn son of Arathorn and I tell you now, I will not bow to this ranger from the north, the last of a ragged house, long bereft of lordship.” Denethor raged. 

“Uncle! No-” Lothíriel and Amrothos both took a step backwards in shock at their uncle’s words. 

“Authority is not given to you to deny the return of the King - Steward.” Gandalf, Meave and Ana’s voices all spoke out as one, filling the hall. 

Shaking with rage, Denethor stood. His voice a balance of a yell and a hiss as he spoke; “The rule of Gondor is mine! And no others!” The anger behind his words filled the room with a tense silence, causing the group to look at each other before turning and leaving. 

Following Gandalf who stormed from the room, Lothíriel and Amrothos remained a heartbeat more with sadness filling their hearts, yet when their uncle did not acknowledge them, they too left. 

“All has turned to vain ambition.” Amrothos said softly as they joined the others in the courtyard. 

“He would even use his grief as a cloak - I fear I do not recognize the man I call uncle.” Lothíriel added. Silent tears falling down her cheeks caused her brother to pull her into his arms. 

“A thousand years this city has stood.” Maeve said watching the emotions wash over the siblings. 

“And now, at the whim of a madman it will fall.” Gandalf said sadly. “The white tree - the tree of the King will never bloom again.” he added before walking through the courtyard and past said tree with Pippin and Ana hot on his heels. 

“Come on you two. We’d better keep up with them, or the wizard is bound to do something rash.” Maeve said, watching them go. 

Nodding, Amrothos stepped back from his sister and with his arm around his sister, the followed Maeve across the courtyard to catch up with the others, Gandalf’s voice washing over them as they did; 

“A faint and fading hope that one day it will flower. That a king will come and this city will be what it once was, before it fell into decay.” 

“When the old wisdom borne out of the West was forsaken.” Amrothos said as they caught up. “Kings made tombs more splendid than the houses of the living and counted the old names of their descent dearer than the name of their sons. Childless lords sat in aged halls musing on heraldry or in high cold towers asking questions of the stars.” Lothíriel said, a faraway expression on her face. 

Gandalf nodded. “And so the people of Gondor fell into ruin, the line of kings failed, the White Tree withered, the rule of Gondor was given over to lesser men.”

Ana, leaning with her back against the short stone wall, watched Pippin’s face as he looked out to the east and saw Mordor for the first time. Seeing his expression, Maeve and Gandalf exchanged a sad look before their group, minus Ana, turned to look at the fiery mountains. 

“Nuair a dhúisigh sí, bhí an domhan ar tine. {When she awoke, the world was on fire. [1]} “Maeve said softly. 

“Yes, there it lies.” Gandalf said with a heavy sigh. 

“This city has dwelt ever in the sight of its shadow.” Lothíriel and Amrothos said at the same time. 

“A storm is coming.” Pippin said, his voice taking on a far away sound. 

“This is not the weather of the world.” Ana said, finally turning to face the evil glow. 

“This is a device of Sauron's making.” Maeve added, looking at Gandalf. 

The wizard nodded before speaking; “A broil of fume he sends ahead of his host. The Orcs of Mordor have no love of daylight, so he covers the face of the sun to ease their passage along the road to war.” 

“When the Shadow of Mordor reaches this city, it will begin.” Ana and Maeve said together. 

Pippin took a step away from the wall and turning away from the darkness squared his shoulders. “Well. Minas Tirith. Very impressive. So where are we off to next?” he asked. 

Five pairs of eyes flew to the hobbit in shock. 

“Oh it's too late for that Peregrin. There's no leaving this city.” Gandalf said, not breaking eye contact with Pippin. “Help must come to us.” he added. 

“And it shall. But first, we should perhaps find some accommodations. I don’t look forward to sleeping in the street.” Ana said. 

Lothíriel and Amrothos smiled and exchanged a look before the prince’s voice drew the attention of the others. 

“Come. We will go to the swan wing of the palace. There will be more than enough room for all of us.” he said before turning and leading the way.

* * *

Following Amrothos and Lothíriel, the group soon found themselves walking under a huge stone archway. Ana stopped to look closer at the stone and found swans etched into the stone. A sudden warmth emanating from the pocket she kept the red keys in stirred her and drew her into a wide open room with a large fireplace on one side. Coming into the room last, five pairs of eyes turned to her and Maeve took a step forward, lost her balance and would have crashed to the floor were it not for Lothíriel and Amrothos catching her. Helping the elf to sit, Maeve’s soft voice filled the room as she stared at her sister;

“They burn every time you come near.” 

Lothíriel quickly pulled the sleeves of her shirt back to reveal the shackles still binding her wrists. A collective gasp was heard from Gandalf, Pippin and Ana before the latter quickly walked across the room, pulling the keys from her pocket as she did. Moving quickly, Ana used the now hot metal to unlock the shackles. The moment they were both loose, Gandalf reached over with cloth wrapped hands and pulled them from Maeve’s wrists. With a muttering of elvish, he threw them into the fire where they exploded in a pop of red light before melting into ash. 

“Ashes to ashes.” he said softly turning back to the group. 

“Metal from Mordor.” Ana said, understanding dawning before she looked up at Lothíriel. “Is there a place we can go so Maeve can rest?” she asked. 

Lothíriel nodded and helped Maeve to stand before the three slowly walked to a nearby door and into a large room beyond. 

“This was my mother’s room.” Lothíriel explained as she helped Maeve over to a large bed. “Not that either of my parents observed the Gondorian tradition of sleeping in separate beds; which meant this room went unused.” 

Maeve smiled, despite the exhaustion washing over her and hissed when she moved and her wrist rubbed against the soft bedding. 

“Lig dom é sin a fheiceáil. {Let me see that.}” Ana said, walking over and pointing to her sister's wrists. 

“Maeve! Why didn’t you say anything?” Lothíriel asked when Maeve’s red and blistered wrists were revealed to the light. With a heavy sigh, the princess whirled around and quickly walked into a small room, returning with an armful of clean bandages, a small glass jar and bowl of water. 

“The water is cold I’m afraid.” she explained before she and Ana set out cleaning and dressing Maeve’s wrists. Once they were done, Ana poured a drop of Galipë and some herbs from her pouch into the large pitcher of water and poured Maeve a cup. After insisting she drink the entire thing, Lothíriel helped Maeve maneuver until she was lying down. It didn’t take long for the herbs to work and Maeve was deeply asleep. 

“The room there is for bathing.” Lothíriel explained as she led Ana into the small room she’d been in a few moments previous. “If you wait a few moments, I’ll have the hot water turned on and you can make use of the rain bath or the basin miss Ana.” Lothíriel said. 

“Please, just Ana. I’m sure Maeve told you the same thing when you first met her.” Ana said distractedly as she walked towards the contraption that looked suspiciously like a shower. “What did you call this? A rain bath? Back home we have something very similar, we call it a shower. How is the water heated?” she asked, turning to Lothíriel. 

“Firstly, Maeve did insist we address her by her given name. As you seem to be of the same disposition, then, I must insist you call me Lothíriel.” the princess smiled as she spoke. “Secondly, I like that name. A shower, I do believe I will call it that from now on. As for the water, there is an underground hot spring, and a device forged by the Dwarves that pumps the water through a series of aqueducts to the Dol Amroth tower. Only our tower has hot water, the other families of Gondor thought it was too progressive.” she added with a small laugh, before quickly leaving the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] ― Scott Westerfeld, Uglies


	13. One Last Breath

Nightfall found the group, clean, fed and rested. Amrothos’ approached Gandalf after the meal to seek his guidance and the two left the tower for a short while. 

“Our uncle has all but exiled the members of the King’s council.” Lothíriel explained as she, Pippin and Ana watched the other two leave. 

“What is the King’s Counsel?” Pippin asked. “I thought there hadn’t been a King in a long time -.” 

Lothíriel nodded and poured tea into mugs to set before the hobbits. “The King’s counsel is a group of men that help the steward rule Gondor. They give advice and information.” 

“Makes sense.” Ana said. “Help whomever is in power to be well informed. Did it work that way when the Kings ruled as well?” 

Lothíriel nodded again, then sighed. “From what Amrothos told me, he was able to discover that in his grief, our uncle has pushed away all the members of the counsel. So far as to banish them from the throne room.” With a frustrated sigh, she pushed away from the table and began to pace. “Maeve warned us that the man we would find would not be the uncle we remembered, but this is madness. I mourn my cousin’s death as well, but I also know we cannot sit and be consumed by grief. The people of Gondor need to see strength, or else they will fall into despair and we will surely lose the fight that is coming.” 

Tears were streaming down her face by the end of her tirade, and Ana reached out and caught Lothíriel’s arm as she moved past her. Causing the princess to still in her pacing and look down at the hobbit, Ana gave her an encouraging smile. 

“A wise woman once told us that hope remains while the company is true.” she said. 

“Besides, Gandalf has a plan up his sleeve I am sure.” Pippin added.

“Indeed I do.” the wizard's voice called from the doorway. 

After joining the group at the table and being handed a mug of hot tea, the wizard explained his plan for the following day. Once the tasks had been outlined, Lothíriel and Amrothos excused themselves and left for their prospective beds. After checking on a still sleeping Maeve, Ana found Pippin and Gandalf in the suite opposite the one she was to share with her sister. Walking into the room, she smiled as she overhead Gandalf mutter and Pippin call out; 

“So, I imagine this is just a ceremonial position. I mean, they don’t actually expect me to do any fighting.” He paused and looked at Ana as she walked over to Gandalf and poured a cup of water. “Do they?” he asked. 

“You’re in the service of the Steward now. You’ll have to do as you’re told Peregrin Took.” Gandalf said, before a fit of coughing took him and Ana handed the wizard the water. 

Pippin joined them at the balcony ledge a moment later and looked up at the night sky. 

“There’s no more stars.” he said, panic creeping into his voice. Turning to Gandalf he asked; “Is it time?” 

“Yes.” Ana replied, her voice sounding hollow. 

“It’s so quiet.” Pippin murmured, before leaning his body on the ledge and looking out into the darkness. 

“It’s the deep breath before the plunge.” Gandalf explained, his voice echoing in the silence. 

“I don’t want to be in a battle.” Pippin said, his voice now full of emotion. “But waiting on the edge of one I can’t escape is even worse.” 

Without saying a word, Ana took a step towards her friend and looped her arm through his, before leaning her head on his shoulder. 

“Is there any hope?” Pippin whispered. 

“For Frodo and Sam or for us?” Ana whispered back. 

“There never was much hope.” Gandalf replied as he joined the hobbits, he too leaning against the balcony wall. 

“Just a fool’s hope.” Maeve’s voice said from behind them. 

Three pairs of eyes turned to face her before, Maeve too came and stood with the group at the wall. Silence fell over the group as they looked out into the darkness towards the glow of Mordor. 

“Our enemy is ready.” Maeve said. “His full strength is gathered.”

“Not only orcs, but men as well.” Ana added. “Legions of Haradrim from the South, Mumakil Mercenaries from the coast, Corsairs of Umbar. All will answer Mordor’s call.” 

Nodding in agreement, Gandalf’s voice was sad when he spoke; “This will be the end of Gondor as we know it. Here the hammer stroke will fall hardest. If the river is taken, if the garrison at Osgiliath falls, the last defense of this city will be gone.” 

“But we have the White Wizard!” Pippin interrupted with a small smile. “That's got to count for something.” 

“Ní i gcoinne rí na cailleach. {Not against the witch king.}” Ana and Maeve said softly, at the same time. 

“Sauron has yet to reveal his deadliest servant, the one who will lead Mordor's armies in war.”

“The one they say no living man can kill.” Ana sneered, cutting the wizard off. 

“The Witch-king of Angmar.” Maeve whispered just loud enough for the others to hear. 

Turning to look at Pippin, Gandalf added; “You've met him before. He stabbed Frodo on Weathertop. He is the lord of the Nazgul, the greatest of the Nine. Minas Morgul is his lair.” 

The moment he stopped speaking a loud shriek filled the silent night and a swirling pillar of sickly green light shot from the edge of Mordor’s mountains towards the sky. Jumping away from the ledge, Ana and Maeve reached for each other, an echoing voice filling their minds. 

“An féidir leat é sin a chloisteáil? {Can you hear that? }” Ana asked as the sister slowly pulled themselves farther into the room and away from the sight.

“Tá sé ag glaoch orainn. Agus mar sin socraítear ár gcinniúint {He is calling to us. And so our fate is decided.}” Maeve replied, her voice hollow and full of fear. 

Gandalf’s voice echoed over the room at that moment. “We come to it, at last. The great battle of our time. The board is set. The pieces are moving.” 

* * *

The pre-dawn light was just filling the sky when Lothíriel and Maeve left the kitchen and headed for the base of the beacon tower. Following the winding stone steps to the top, they arrived just in time for the guard change and offered their food/distraction to the two new guards. 

At the same time, Amrothos, Ana, Gandalf and Pippin were weaving their way through the shadows at the base of the tower until Amrothos - who was leading the way, stopped and pointed to a ledge above his head. After helping Pippin up and onto it, the trio dispersed around the tower while Pippin climbed. Arriving at the top of the tower, Pippin peered around the edge of the giant pile of wood to see Maeve and Lothíriel still talking with the guards - whose backs were to him. Smiling, he climbed the rest of the way to the top of the pile and reaching for the lantern, spilled oil everywhere. Reaching as high as he could, the hobbit grabbed the lantern and not expecting the metal to be hot dropped it with a hiss. The combination of oil and dry wood caused the beacon to very quickly blaze. Letting the excited grin fall from his face, Pippin scrambled back down the way he’d come as the voices of the guards echoed out over the air. 

From their place at the bottom of the tower, Gandalf and Ana exchanged a smile before rushing to the edge of the wall and looking out towards the mountains. Excitement filled the air as a moment later the sight of the first beacon being lit was seen and the voices of the people cried out in hope. Joining them, Amrothos patted Gandalf on the back and gave Ana a small nod. 

“Amon Dîn.” Gandalf said under his breath.

“So it begins.” Amrothos said with a smile. 

“Hope is kindled.” Ana added. 

A loud crash was heard a moment later, followed by Pippin’s voice calling out; “It’s alright. It was deliberate. I’m all right.” 

The trio smiled and ran back towards where the hobbit lay sprawled on the remains of a wooden cart. After pulling Pippin out of the rubble, the group made their way back to the Dol Amroth wing and waited for Maeve and Lothíriel.

* * *

“Do you really think that we can convince the council of lords to agree to our plan, despite your uncle?” Maeve asked as they sat around the table. 

“Uncle has turned to madness and grief when he should be protecting the people of this city. It will not be hard to convince them.” Amrothos replied.

After laying out their plan, Lothíriel and Amrothos went to meet with the lords and the other headed down to the first level of the city. Arriving there, the girls were distracted by the stables and slipped inside to check on Brennil. The moment they walked into the stall with the meras, a flash of memory went through them. Turning with a start, the looked at each other and said; 

“Faramir!” 

A heartbeat later, they were on Brennil and leading Shadowfax out into the courtyard where Gandalf and Pippin were running towards them. 

“They need our help-.” Ana started to say, just a shrieking cry filled the air and the fearful yelling of soldiers on the walkway allerted the group to the presence of the Nasgûl. With Gandalf and Pippin on Shadofax’s back the four quickly rode out to meet the fleeing soldiers. Side by side, they rode and as they approached the creatures, Gandalf raised his staff, shooting a blinding beam of light towards the nearest of the Nasgûl. Ana and Maeve reached out with the powers and multiplied it, like a mirror, reflecting the light at the others and allowing the soldiers to ride freely to Minas Tirith. 

Once inside the gates, Gandalf made his way towards Faramir and the girls followed. 

“Mithrandir!” the steward's son called out as he approached the wizard. “They broke through our defenses. They’ve taken the bridge and the westbank. Battalions of orc are crossing the river.” 

“It is as Lord Denethor predicted! Long has he foreseen this doom” a soldier called out in despair. 

“Predicted and done nothing!” Maeve and Gandalf said at the same time. 

Her comment drew Faramir’s attention and he looked in shock and awe at first the elf then the two hobbits. 

“Faramir?” Gandalf asked softly, seeing the look of shock on the man’s face. These are not the first Halflings to have crossed your path?”

He shook his head before answering; “No.” 

A hopeful grin lit Pippin’s face as he asked; “You’ve seen Frodo and Sam.” 

Maeve and Ana schooled their features, knowing the information that was about to be revealed. 

“Where? When?” Gandalf asked. 

“In Ithilien, not two days ago.” came the soft reply. 

“And where were they going?” Maeve asked softly, catching Faramir’s attention again. “What path did they take?” 

“Was the creature with them?” Ana asked. 

Confusion passed Faramir’s face before he slowly answered; “The creature - Frodo said it was their guide. I am still not convinced that letting it lead them to the Mogul Vale was wise. Fate led them to me -.”

“And then the pass of Cirith Ungol?” Gandalf asked, earning a small nod from Faramir.

“Fate.” Maeve said sadly, catching Faramir in a stare. “Maybe there isn’t such a thing as fate. Maybe it’s just the opportunities we’re given, and what we do with them.[1] Do not let fate rule your heart, ere’ you turn out like your father.”

Without further comment, she nudged Brennil who took off towards the stables. After seeing Brennil to her stall and leaving, the girls found Amrothos and Lothíriel moving quickly towards them. 

“They’ve agreed-.”Amrothos said. 

“Good.” Ana and Maeve said at the same time. 

“Now, we must hurry. Your cousin is about to walk into a vipers nest.” Ana explained, darting around a small group of soldiers and heading up the hill. 

“He’s going to need all the support he can get.” Maeve added, following her sister.

* * *

“This is how you would serve your city?” Denetor’s angry voice echoed out across the hall as he yelled at his son. “You would risk it’s utter ruin?” 

Standing tall, Faramir answered in a level tone; “I did what I judged to be right.” 

“Good for him.” Maeve whispered as she stood in the shadows between Lothíriel and Ana. 

“What you judged to be right? You sent the ring of power into Mordor in the hands of a witless Halfling!” Denethor yelled.

“Watch your mouth you, that’s my brother you just insulted.” Ana said softly, anger rolling off of her in waves. 

“It should have been brought back to the citadel, to be kept safe. Hidden - dark and deep in the vaults - not to be used. Unless at the uttermost end of need.” Denethor’s voice faded away as he spoke and the girls exchanged a worried look. 

“I would not use the ring.” Faramir declared, his voice filling the hall. “Not if Minas Tirith were falling in ruin and I alone could save her.” 

“Well said cousin.” Lothíriel whispered, a proud smile on her face. 

“Ever you desire to appear ordly and gracious, as a king of old.” Denethor said, his voice level and full of anger. “Boromir would have remembered his father’s need. He would have brought me a kingly gift!” 

“That’s what you think.” Ana and Maeve muttered in unison causing Lothíriel to look at them in alarm.

“Boromir would not have brought the ring.” Farmir insisted, his voice full of understanding as he spoke. “He would have stretched out his hand to this thing and taken it. He would’ve fallen.” 

“You know nothing of this matter!” Denethor cried out. 

“He would have kept it for his own! And when he returned, you would not have known your son.” Faramir insisted, softly yet firmly 

“He speaks as if he knows -.” Lothíriel said, looking at Maeve and Ana. 

“That is because he does.” Maeve said sadly. “The ring of power has a will of its own and he-” 

She was cut off by Denethor yelling and making a move to strike out at his son. 

“Boromir was loyal to me! Not some wizard’s pupil!” he screamed. 

The emotion of the moment caused him to stumble away and collapse at the base of his chair. 

“Uncle!” Lothíriel cried out, moving to run to him - only to stop when her brother caught her around the waist. 

“No.” he whispered. “Leave him. Faramir must see this.” Amrothos said, seeing the looks on Ana and Maeve’s faces. 

A look of distress passed over Denethor’s face when Faramir approached. For a moment he looked happy, only to have it vanish just as quickly. 

“Leave me.” the steward hissed. 

“Let her go, Amrothos. Your cousin needs you.” Ana said as Faramir strode from the hall and Denethor collapsed. “Come, we have work to do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long chapter, I know, but it's an important one. Please leave a review, checkout my pinterest board(https://www.pinterest.ca/whiterosefletch/the-stars/ ), or the playlist I made for this story on Spotify (Stars and Prophecy). 
> 
> [1] ― Marissa Meyer, Cress


	14. The Road to War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Edoras. It had to happen eventually, I know.

Striding quickly from her room, Sorcha nearly tripped over Merry who was pacing in the hallway. 

“Merry? Is everything all right?” she asked, adjusting her things as they hung over her shoulder to crouch down to the hobbit’s level. 

“All my friends have gone to war - Frodo and Sam, even Pippin and Ana. They all seem to have a purpose. What am I to do?” he asked, looking distraught. 

With a sigh, Sorcha dropped to her knees and placed her hands on Merry’s shoulders, looking him in the eye before speaking; 

“Merry, the world that Ana, Maeve and I come from has seen much evil. Men and women who seek to control the world with fear and animosity. Before we came here, there was a war that nearly consumed the world, and a great man who was the leader of our country said ‘Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say: This was their finest hour.[1]’ Mister Churchill was very wise, and I hope that we can take his words to heart. The people of this land need us - all of us.” Sorcha paused when she felt a presence behind her and she glanced over her shoulder to find Aragorn and Lial standing behind her. Tuning back to Merry she smiled. “You’ve been brave till now Merry, don’t let your courage fall just because others say it should. After all, you stood against a cave troll and a Balrog, I think the armies of Mordor would be nothing compared to that.” She added before standing. “Oh, and try not to loose this again.” she added, handing Merry his elvish dagger. 

Merry squared his shoulders and nodded his thanks before turning and walking away. 

“I don’t know if your counsel was wise or foolish sister.” Aragorn said as he approached Sorcha. 

Looking at her brother, Sorcha shook her head slightly. “Nor do I, however -.” she paused and smiled slightly. “The time has now come, when Hobbits will shape the fortunes of all.” 

Without further explanation, she walked away from her brother to catch up with Lial. 

* * *

A wash of noise; bells clanging, men and women calling out and horses met Sorcha as she walked out of the great hall, side by side with Lial.  
“Thank you, miss, for letting me accompany you to the encampment.” Lial said as the girls quickly walked down the steps to the stables. 

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Sorcha grabbed Lial’s arm and pulled her into the shadows of a nearby building. 

“Lial, I know the plans of the shield-maidens.” Sorcha whispered. 

Her friend paled slightly and straightened before speaking. “I don’t know what you mean miss.”

“Really? So, I wouldn’t find your sword safely tucked inside your bed roll?” Sorcha asked. 

Holding up her hand to stop her friend from interrupting, she continued. “Peace Lial, I am not here to reveal the plan, but to ask for your help. Lady Éowyn must be encouraged to join the small group of shield maiden's that will be riding with the men, not after them.” 

Lial starred in shock at Sorcha for a moment before quickly glancing around to make sure no one was listening. 

“This plan as you call it has only ever been spoken of from mother to daughter. It is the only guarantee the women of our country have to not die alone. How is it you know of it?” 

Sorcha smiled and linked her arm through Lial’s before pulling her back onto the path and down to the stables. 

“Any fool can know. The point, is to understand.[2]” 

Lial didn’t have time to form a reply as Legolas appeared through the crowd of people, coming towards them. 

“Tá tú ann. Tá ár gcara dwarf mífhoighneach. {There you are. Our dwarf friend is getting impatient.}” he said. 

“Is eol go bhfuil dwarves mar ghríos. {Dwarves are known for being rash.}” she replied. “Come. Let’s not keep master Gimli waiting.” she added with a smile, before leading the way to the stables. 

“There ya’ be lass!” Gimli cried out when he saw her approach. 

“Here I am.” after a short pause, she added; “Come, Gimli. We’d best get you onto a horse, or you’ll be left behind. 

“I’d be honored, master Dwarf if you’d ride with me.” Lial said as she and Legolas caught up. 

Surprise crossed Gimli’s face for a heartbeat before he nodded. “I only ride with a friend, and my friends call me Gimli lass.” he teased. 

“Gimli!” Sorcha and Legolas chastised at the same time. 

“Come on lass, let’s leave the love birds to find their own way to Dunharrow.” Gimli said before he and Lial walked away. 

Quickly finding their horses and making sure their belongings were secure, Sorcha and Legolas mounted headed out of the stables to join Gimli and Lial. Waiting for Aragon, the group watched as the soldiers filed out of Edoras to the wailing of those left behind. 

“Horsemen!” Gimli grunted. “I wish I could muster a legion of Dwarves, fully armed and filthy!” he declared as they watched the column of riders pass them by. 

Legolas and Sorcha exchanged a sad look before Sorcha looked away, pain clearly written on her face. 

“I fear your kinsmen will have no need to ride to war. I fear war already marches on their own lands.” Legolas replied to Gimli. 

“So it is before the walls of Minas Tirith, the doom of our time will be decided.” Sorcha said softly, her voice sounding hollow, before urging her horse forward. 

Seeing Merry struggling to get his pony to move, she maneuvered nearer to him and reached out, swatting the rump of his pony. With a jolt the two were moving along with the other riders. 

“That lass of yours gets more melancholy every day.” Gimli said watching Sorcha ride away. 

“She bears a heavy burden.” Aragorn interrupted before Legolas could reply. “My sister knows much of the things that are to come.” 

“She does not carry her burden alone.” Legolas said softly, looking at Aragorn and earning a thankful nod from him. 

Without further comment, the group began to ride slowly down the hill, the echo of Éomer’s voice filling the air; 

“Now is the hour! Riders of Rohan, oaths you have taken!. Now, fulfill them all. To Lord and Land!!” 

* * *

The ride to Dunharrow was hard and fast, not stopping until they were at the top of the cliff, overlooking the rest of the encampment. Slipping from their horses, Lial quickly disappeared to join the other shield maidens and Sorcha set her things inside the tent. Coming out of the tent, her chakram in her hand, a soft breeze filled the air causing a chill to run up her spine. A ghostly echoing voice filled her mind, calling her name. Sorcha was so distracted by the voice that she didn’t see the stallion rearing beside her, or hear Legolas call out a warning, before she was unceremoniously pulled away and found herself looking up at the sky from the flat of her back. 

“Mo grá? [My love?}” Legolas asked, helping Sorcha to her feet. 

Shaking her head in response to his question, she jolted at Gimli’s voice nearby, staring at the path in the mountain-side. 

“The horses are restless.” he said, the comment seeming odd coming from him. 

“The men are quiet.” Legolas added, watching as Éomer approached their group. 

“They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain.” Sorcha said, not looking away from the mountain. 

Éomer nodded, before turning his gaze towards the shadowy road a short ways away. 

“That road there -.” Gimli started, not seeing Sorcha’s body freeze at his words. “Where does that lead?” he asked. 

“It is the road to the Dimholt.” Sorcha whispered, her voice full of pain and anger. 

“The door under the mountain.” Legolas added. 

“None who venture there, ever return.” Éomer said, looking from Legolas to Gimli. “That mountain is evil.” he added before walking away. 

With an unseeing gaze, Sorcha found her feet pulling her towards the entrance of the Dimholt road. Stopping beside her brother, the two peered past the stone marker and down the dark path in the mountain. A trick of the light drew their attention and a green ghostly form appeared. Feeling her heart speed up, Sorcha took a half step forward only to be stopped by her brother's hand on her arm. Turning slightly to look at him, she found all the color was gone from his face. 

“Á a-ldë -? {Did you see -?}” she asked softly, grasping Aragorn’s arm.

Her brother nodded his head jerkily once before Gimli’s voice jolted the sibling's attention back to the present. 

“Aragorn! Sorcha! Let’s find some food.” the dwarf said, before brushing past them, leaving Legolas staring at the siblings with a concerned look on his face. Looking away from his gaze, Aragorn and Sorcha looked at each other before once more turning to look down the Dimholt road. Seeing nothing, they both let out an uneasy breath and turned away. Letting Aragorn walk away with a thoughtful expression on his face, Sorcha took two steps towards Legolas and was quickly pulled into his arms. 

Letting the warmth and love she felt there seep into her, Sorcha felt her body begin to relax. Hearing the sound of a throat being cleared nearby caused her to pull away. 

“Come on love birds, you can do that after we find some food.” Gimli grumbled. 

Unable to help herself, Sorcha smiled and then laughed. Reaching down, she grabbed Legolas’ hand and the two followed along after the dwarf in search of sustenance. 

* * *

As night fell, Sorcha found herself in a tent with Merry and Éowyn. Smiling, the women stepped back and admired the sight before them. 

“The fortunes of all indeed.” Sorcha said softly. “As you have before, you’ll do very well indeed Master Meriadoc.” 

“A true esquire of Rohan.” Éowyn agreed with a smile. 

Excitement clear on his face, Merry pulled his sword from its scabbard and swung it in an arc, barely missing Éowyn in the process. 

“Merry!” Sorcha cried. “You know better than to wave your sword about in such a dangerous manner.” 

The hobbit looked sheepish for a moment before apologizing; “Sorry, but it isn’t all that dangerous. It isn’t even sharp.” 

“No excuse.” Sorcha muttered before smiling at the hobbit and leaving the tent. 

Watching her leave, Éowyn frowned before responding to Merry. 

“Well, that's no good. You won’t kill many orcs with a blunt blade. Come on.” She gave the hobbit a gentle push out the door way of the tent and smiled at his antics as he swung his sword in front of him. 

“Come along Merry!” Sorcha called from a few feet away. 

“To the smithy, go!” Éowyn added, pointing Merry in the right direction. 

After seeing Merry to the smithy, Sorcha came back in time to see Éowyn storming away from the tent. Realizing the conversation that must have happened, she quickly went after her and stopped short, seeing the lady standing at the edge of the cliff, looking out at the night sky. 

“He’s wrong you know, your brother. War is not the providence of men.” Sorcha said, moving to stand beside the shield maiden. “It is simply the chisel used to carve out a peaceful tomorrow. [3]”

Éowyn turned sharply to look at Sorcha, a tear falling down her cheek as she did. “That may be true, however it is a chisel wielded by men.” 

“Perhaps. But Éowyn, this is the fate of the world at stake. Are you really going to stand there and tell me you’ll not join the frey when everything you hold dear hangs in the balance?” Sorcha asked. 

Éowyn turned away and looked out into the darkness, silence falling before Sorcha sighed sadly and left her friend to her thoughts. Rounding the corner of the King’s tent, Sorcha stopped short at the sight of a familiar horse. Approaching the stallion, she softly ran her hand along his muzzle and was rewarded with a soft nudge in return. “Sívë ië golodh?. _{Where is teacher?}_ _”_

An answer arrived a moment later when Aragorn appeared looking distraught and exhausted.

“There you are Sorcha! King Théoden has sent for us-.” After a slight pause, he gently grabbed Sorcha’s arm and softly asked; “Lárë mananlmë? {What is going on?}”

Sorcha’s smile fell as she took in the lines clearly visible and the worry etched in her brother’s face. 

“I promise you, everything will make sense in a moment.” she whispered back before leading the way to the entrance of Théoden’s tent, where a guard held open the flap and they entered. Stopping just inside the entrance, the siblings took in the sight of Théoden bowed slightly, talking to a seated, cloaked figure. Seeing the siblings enter, he stood tall and approached them. Looking between the figure and the siblings, he said; “I take my leave.” before exiting the tent. Confusion crossed over Aragorn’s face and he looked to his sister, who took a single step towards the figure as they stood. Aragorn turned back in time to see the figure had removed their hood and gasped at the face he beheld. 

Bowing slightly, Aragorn’s voice filled the tent; “My Lord Elrond!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Winston Churchill quote.  
> [2] Albert Einstein quote.  
> [3] Martin Luther King Jr. quote.


	15. The Choices We Make

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *continuity update. Oct 22 2020*

A smile lit Sorcha’s face and she moved to embrace the elven lord. 

“Ala golodh. {welcome ‘teacher’}” she said, stepping back. 

“It is good to see you well, young Elwen - forgive me, Sorcha.” Elrond said, before turning his gaze to Aragorn. “I come on behalf of one whom I love. Arwen is dying.” he said, his voice full of pain and anger. 

Sorcha felt like a knife was plunged into her heart and took a staggering step away from Elrond to a nearby chair. 

“Ní féidir leis a bheith. {It cannot be.}” she murmured. 

Looking from Aragorn, to Sorcha and back, Elrond sighed sadly. “She will not long survive the evil that spreads from Mordor. The light of the evenstar is failing. As Saruon’s power grows, her strength waines.” 

Moving quickly, Sorcha stood in front of her brother and reached her powers out towards the pendant that hung around his neck. With a gasp, the dreams he’d experienced only a few moments before crashed into her, causing her to lose her balance and crash into Aragorn as her knees gave way. 

“Sorcha!” Elrond and Aragorn’s voices blended as they both cried out her name and moved to help her back to the chair she’d just vacated. Grabbing a goblet and the nearby pitcher, Aragorn poured a small amount of the contents and handed it to his sister, insisting she drink. With a frown, Sorcha downed the contents, then coughed at the taste of sour wine. Stepping back, Elrond took a deep breath and began to speak, only to be interrupted by Sorcha. 

“Arwen’s life is now tied to the fate of the ring. I am so sorry háno{brother}, I had hoped we could avoid this pain.” Sorcha said softly. 

“Nothing of the future is set in stone Sorcha, the things you know to happen may still come to pass - and yet, a shadow is upon us.” Elrond said, causing Aragorn to rise and turn to face the elf-lord. 

With a sad expression, he looked from Sorcha to Aragorn before continuing to speak; “The end has come.”

“It will not be our end, but his.” Sorcha said, her voice resolute as she stood on shaky legs. 

“You ride to war, but not to victory.” Elrond said, looking Aragorn in the eye. “Saruon’s armies march on Minas Tirith, this you know. But in secret, he sends another force which will attack from the river. A fleet of corsair ships sails from the south. They’ll be in the city in two days. You’re outnumbered Aragorn. You need more men!” 

Glancing quickly at Sorcha, Aragorn saw confirmation in her face, before turning back to Elrond. 

“There are none!” 

“That’s not entirely true though, is it brother?” Sorcha asked softly, laying her hand on her brother’s arm. 

“There are those - who dwell in the mountain.” Elrond answered the unspoken question softly. 

The moment he said it, the wind began to howl, carrying with it a ghostly wail. Horses and men objected loudly and Aragorn sneered over the noise before all at once the night was again silent. 

“Murderers, traitors!” he looked away from Elrond to stare at Sorcha. “You would call upon them to fight?” 

“You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today [1]. The time has come.” Sorcha replied softly, taking a small step away from Aragorn to stand beside Elrond. 

Aragorn scoffed; “They believe in nothing!! They answer to no one!” 

Sorcha smiled and she and Elrond exchanged a brief look before she moved away. 

“They will answer to the King of Gondor.” Elrond declared, pulling the sword Andúril from its hiding place. “Andúril, the flame of the west. Forged from the shards of Narsil.” Elrond explained, holding the sword out to Aragorn. 

“Renewed shall be blade that was broken, the crown-less again shall be king.[2]” Sorcha whispered, her voice full of awe and tears streaming down her face as she watched her brother slowly reach out and take the sword from Elrond, who then took a half-step back. 

“Sauron will not have forgotten the sword of Elendil.” Aragorn whispered, eyeing the sword before he removed it from its scabbard. “The blade that was broken, shall return to Minas Tirith.” Aragorn said after a moment of silence. 

“The man who can wield the power of this sword, can summon to him an army more deadly than any that walks this earth. Put aside the ranger. Become who you were born to be.” Elrond said, not looking away from Aragorn. 

"Ónen i-Estel Edain. {I gave Hope to the Dúnedain.}” Elrond said, clearly reading the expression of worry on Aragorn’s face. 

“ú-chebin estel anim. {I have kept no hope for myself}" Aragon replied. 

“Search your heart Aragorn, you already know the road we must take.” Sorcha said softly. “Besides, Gandalf would say there never was much hope, leastwise not more than a fool’s hope.” after a small pause she continued; “Hope can be a powerful force. Maybe there's no actual magic in it, but when you know what you hope for most and hold it like a light within you, you can make things happen, almost like magic.[3]” Bowing to Elrond, she turned away, then rushed back and gave the elf-ord a quick hug before leaving the tent. Calling out; “I’ll get our things.” as she did. 

“Sorcha is correct. You must take the Dimholt road.” 

Aragorn sighed and a heartbeat later the sound of Andúril being sheathed, rang throughout the tent. 

“She’s going to insist she come with me.” Aragorn said sadly. “I promised emel{mother} that I would keep her safe, but this would be leading her to a path of guaranteed danger.”

“Your sister has always had a mind of her own. Trust yourself, trust her -.” For a moment, Elrond looked as if he was going to say something else, but changed his mind and nodded. “Pada me sîdh. {Go in peace.}” Elrond said before flipping the hood of his cloak over his head and leaving the tent.

* * *

“Tá tú ann! {There you are!}” Sorcha exclaimed, finding Legolas and Gimli sitting alone by a fire. “Tar, ní mór dúinn ár gcuid rudaí a fháil.Tá Aragorn ag fágáil agus caithfimid dul leis.{Come, we must get our things. Aragorn is leaving and we must go with him.}”

“cá?{Where?}” Legolas asked, looking at Sorcha. 

“An Sléibh. {The mountain.}” Sorcha replied, glancing towards the Dimholt road. 

“Come on Gimli.” Legolas said, jumping to his feet and pulling the dwarf along with him. The two disappeared into a nearby tent and Sorcha could hear Legolas softly explaining what was happening. 

“Buailfidh tú leat leis na capaill. {I’ll meet you by the horses.}” Sorcha called out before turning and all but running away. 

Sliding into her tent, she quickly gathered her weapons and slipped her new ranger coat[1] on. Smiling, she remembered the moment Lial and Laylan had presented it to her:

_“Lady Sorcha!” Laylan’s face was full of joy when Sorcha exited the hallway and found Lial standing with her mother. “I am glad to find you before we left.”_

_“Is everything alright?” Sorcha asked, concerned that she had broken some rule by asking Lial to travel with her._

_“As fine as can be in the face of war.” Laylan replied._

_“Miss Ana left before we could properly thank her for everything she did at Helm’s Deep. You however are here to receive our gratitude.”_

_“Laylan, Lial, that is not necessary. Really -.” Sorcha started, but was stopped by the look on Laylan’s face._

_“This is from the shield maidens. We have worked hard to mend your black garb, and hope that this cloak will help shield you.”_

_With a flick of her wrist, she held out, what Sorcha realized was a beautiful black trench coat, complete with a hood._

_“Thank you.” she replied softly. “I will treasure it always.”_

She was interrupted in her memories by the arrival of Éowyn. 

“You are leaving.” her friend said, anger and hurt plainly written on her face. 

With a sigh, Sorcha turned to face the princess and nodded. 

“Éowyn, as much as I wish it, I cannot join you in the journey that is coming. My journey follows another path.” Grabbing her sword last, she strapped it to her waist and took a single step towards the tent flap. “Remember who you are.” she said, looking at Éowyn one last time. “Don’t lose hope - oh, and take Merry with you.” she added before leaving. 

Clearly upset, Éowyn stormed from the tent and went in search of Aragorn, hoping he could talk some sense into his sister. 

Sorcha watched from the shadows, with a sad expression and nearly jumped out of her skin when Legolas joined her, the sound of Éowyn and Aragorn’s voices washing over them. 

“Why are you doing this? The war lies to the East, you cannot leave on the eve of battle! You cannot abandon the men.” Éowyn cried, seeing Aragorn tying his things to Brego’s back. 

“Éowyn -.” Aragorn sighed softly. 

“We need you here Aragorn.” she insisted. 

“Why have you come?” Aragorn asked, knowing the answer already. 

“Do you not know?” Éowyn asked, sadness filling her. 

Aragorn sighed softly and stopped his preparations to look at the princess. “It is but a shadow and a thought that you love. I cannot give you what you seek.” The finality of his statement washed over Éowyn, causing her to take a few small steps away from him. 

“Leave it there-.” Sorcha whispered, watching from the shadows. 

“I have wished you joy since first I saw you.” Aragorn said, taking a step towards Éowyn and gently touching her cheek before dropping his hand and turning away. 

“Men.” Sorcha sighed, shaking her head before she turned and grabbed Legolas’s hand. Pulling him along the back of the tents, arriving just as Gimli started to speak to her brother. 

“Just where do you think you're off to?” The dwarf asked. 

Shaking his head, Aragorn looked at the dwarf. “Not this time. This time you must stay Gimli.” 

“Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of Dwarves?” Legolas asked as he and Sorcha rounded the tent and grabbed the reins of their horses.

“Might as well accept it. We're going with you, laddie.” Gimli added before Sorcha and Legolas helped him up onto the nearest horse and firmly grabbed the reins. With a gentle tug, Sorcha began to walk through the camp towards the opening in the mountain side. 

Without a further word Aragorn and Legolas hurried after them. They didn’t get very far before they were stopped. Just outside the Dimholt road, a small group of figures stepped out of the darkness. 

“The path you undertake is perilous.” a female voice familiar to Sorcha called out from one of the grey hooded figures. 

“Made less so in the company of those you trust.” a second voice added. 

Aragorn stepped past Sorcha, leading Brego and stopped in front of the group. 

“We come on behalf of one whom we love. We will not be dissuaded.” 

“Dissuaded? More likely, Elladan and Elrohir, you weren't willing to let us have all the fun.” as Sorcha spoke, the elves in question removed their hoods, drawing gasps from the onlooking Rohirrim onlookers. 

“We were waiting for Lord Elrond to leave. He thought it best not to let you be aware of our presence too early, my lady, lest you slip away in the night.” the female voice said. 

“Us?” Sorcha cried smiling. “As I remember, it was you Halea[4], not I who snuck out at night.” 

Silence fell for a moment before the ranger in question threw back her hood, her flame red hair glinting in the moonlight as she moved, she stepped forward to embrace Sorcha. 

Stepping away, Halea bowed to Aragorn. “My father sends his regards, Lord Aragorn. He had taken the rest of the grey company to marshal more men at Pelargir. We have come to travel this path with you.” she said, her voice leaving little room for argument. 

Sorcha laughed and pulled her childhood friend into another embrace. Before she was pulled away and soon at the receiving end of a stream of worried conversation from Elladan and Elrohir. Shaking his head, Aragorn looked over the men and women gathered and nodded. 

“I count myself fortunate to have so many friends here. On you who travel with, no oath nor bond is laid to go further than you will.” Without further ado, he swung up onto Brego’s back and slowly led the way into the mountain. 

One by one the grey company fell into line behind him, leaving room in the middle for Sorcha, Legolas and Gimli. The murmur of worried voices called out to the group as they rode past, and Sorcha tried her best to ignore the comments. She smiled slightly as King Théoden’s voice echoed out over the rocks of the mountain; 

“He leaves because he must.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] The image for this coat can be found on my pinterest board.  
> [1] Abraham Lincoln quote.  
> [2] J. R. R. Tolkein. I figured that at least once, I should reference the original source material.  
> [3] Laini Taylor - Daughter of Smoke & Bone  
> [4] Halea - the fantastic Eleanor Tomlinson


	16. Echoes of the Dead

The heat of the noonday sun beat down on the group making them miserable. Gimli grumbled about the heat, Aragorn scowled, the twins laughed and Sorcha sighed. 

“Perhaps mo grá {my love}, you could tell us a tale to distract our grumpy dwarf.” Legolas said. 

His comment was met with a chorus of agreement from the company and Sorcha smiled sadly. 

“I’m afraid that anything I could bring to mind is not appropriate for this place.” Sorcha answered softly. 

“Then perhaps you could tell us what has transpired on this quest of yours?” Halea asked, smirking at Sorcha before pointedly looking at Legolas and back. 

Sorcha blushed and scowled at her friend before Gimli interrupted. 

“Lass, you once said that in your world, they tell stories about us. Perhaps you could tell us something - eerr -.” he stuttered to a stop seeing the confusion on the faces of the grey company members. 

With a sigh, Sorcha looked first at Legolas, then the twins, then to her brother, who had slowed and now was side by side with her. “It is your tale to tell, sister.” he said softly. 

Sorcha sighed and nodded, then lightly patted Gimli’s hand where it rested loosely at her waist. 

“It would be rude to not give an explanation first-.” she started. With an encouraging nod from Legolas, she launched into the tale. Telling the tale of the stars and her sisters, to the travels and adventures they’d had. Silence fell over the group, only the sound of the horses and Sorcha’s voice filled the air. When she was done speaking, Halea tilted her head and then shook it at her friend. 

“And that is why it was a good idea to come. You do get into all kinds of trouble without me.” 

Laughter lightened the mood for a few moments until silence again fell, the mountain stilling the joy. Wanting to do something to help, Sorcha began to hum, the haunting sound echoing over the rocks. After humming for a few moments, her voice echoed out, filling the otherwise silent air. 

_Oh, misty eye of the mountain below._

_Keep careful watch of my brothers' souls._

_And should the sky be filled with fire and smoke,_

_Keep watchin’ over Durin's sons._

_If this is to end in fire, then we should all burn together._

_Watch the flames climb high into the night._

_Calling out father! Oh - Stand by and we will,_

_Watch the flames burn auburn on the mountain side._

_And if we should die tonight, then we should all die together_

_Watch the flames climb higher for the last time_

_Raise a glass of wine for the last time._

_Calling out father! Oh - Prepare us we will,_

_Watch the flames burn auburn on the mountain side._

_Desolation comes upon the sky._

_Now I see fire, inside the mountain._

_I see fire, burning the trees._

_And I see fire, hollowing souls._

_And I see fire, blood in the breeze._

_And I hope that you remember me._

_Oh, should my people fall, then surely I'll do the same._

_Confined in mountain halls, we got too close to the flame._

_Calling out father! Oh - Hold fast and we will_

_Watch the flames burn auburn on the mountain side._

_Desolation comes upon the sky._

_Now I see fire, inside the mountain._

_I see fire, burning the trees._

_And I see fire, hollowing souls._

_And I see fire, blood in the breeze._

_And I hope that you remember me._

_And if the night is burning, I will cover my eyes._

_For if the dark returns, then my brothers will die._

_And as the sky is falling down, it crashed into this lonely town._

_And with that shadow on the ground, I hear my people screaming out._

_I see fire, inside the mountain._

_I see fire, burning the trees._

_And I see fire, hollowing souls._

_And I see fire, blood in the breeze._

_I see fire, and I see fire,_

_And I see fire, and I see fire burn auburn on the mountain side. [1]_

“Thank you, lass.” Gimli whispered, his voice full of emotion, when she stopped singing. 

As the last notes of her song echoed through the mountain pass, an otherworldly cry filled the air. Falling silent, the only sound from the group was the clip-clop of the horses on the gravel path. 

“What kind of army would linger in such a place?” Gimli whispered after a few moments of silence. 

“One that is cursed.” the twins replied at the same time. 

“Long ago the Men of the Mountains swore an oath to the last king of Gondor. To come to his aid, to fight.” Sorcha said, her voice sounding hollow. 

“But when the time came, when Gondor's need was dire, they fled. Vanishing into the darkness of the mountain.” Halea said, looking around them at the mountain.

“And so Isildur cursed them. Never to rest until they had fulfilled their pledge.” Legolas continued. 

“Thou shalt be the last king, and if the west prove mightier than thy Black Master, this curse I lay upon thee and thy folk; to rest never until your oath is fulfilled. For this war will last through years uncounted, and you shall be summoned once again ere’ the end.[2]” Sorcha added, her voice full of anger and sadness. 

“Who shall call them from the grey twilight, the forgotten people? The heir of him to whom the oath they swore. From the North shall he come, need shall drive him: He shall pass the Door to the Paths of the Dead.” the voices of the three elves echoed hauntingly around them.

Following Aragorn, they climbed a small hill and quickly dismounted. As they approached the side of the mountain, an echoing voice filled the air. 

“Hello darkness, my old friend.” Sorcha whispered softly as she helped Gimli down from the horse. 

“The very warmth of my blood seems stolen away.” Gimli said, looking from Sorcha to Legolas and back. 

“The way is shut.” Legolas said, pointing to etchings in an archway. 

“It was made by those who are dead, and the Dead keep it.” Elladan added, moving to stand beside Legolas. 

“The way is shut.” Elrohir finished, pointing to the last symbol.

A heartbeat later a screeching wind blew out of the darkness beneath the arch and the horses bolted away. 

“The breath of the Dead.” Sorcha muttered, taking a step forward to stand beside her brother. Exchanging a quick look with him, she nodded her head slowly once, before Aragorn squared his shoulders and took one step forward. 

“I do not fear death.” he declared before marching into the darkness, Sorcha directly behind him. Legolas took one breath, then followed the siblings into the dark. One by one the grey company followed, leaving Gimli above ground.

“Well, this is a thing unheard of. Elves will go underground, where a Dwarf dare not. Oh, I'd never hear the end of it.” he declared before jogging after his friends. 

Inside the mountain, Sorcha pulled a torch from the wall and handed it to her brother. After wrapping the top of it in a new piece of cloth she pulled from her bag, she whispered; 

“Nár. {fire}” and the torch was quickly engulfed in a bright flame. After doing the same with two other torches and handing them out, she nodded to Aragorn. “Lead the way brother.” She said, stepping back to allow Aragorn to lead them into the darkness. 

* * *

Following in silence, the group wound their way through the tunnels. Time moved both slowly and quickly as they walked. Suddenly in the darkness, the tunnel opened up to reveal an open room with offshoot openings all around it. One by one they inspected the openings to discover them blocked - by the remains of the dead. 

Gimil’s voice suddenly echoed out into the darkness as he watched Legolas walk. 

“What is it? What do you see?”

The elf looked disturbed and Sorcha noticed that Elladan and Elrohir had the same otherworldly expressions on their faces. 

“I see shapes of men.” Legolas replied after a moment of tense silence. 

“And of horses.” Elladan added, his voice having the same sound as Legolas’. 

“Where?” Gimli cried out, turning in a circle. A few of the grey company, looking around them as well. 

“Pale banners, like shreds of cloud.” Elrohir added as they walked through the only opening not blocked by skeletons. 

“Spears rise, like winter thickets through a shroud of mist.” Legolas said, a lost sound in his voice. 

Moving smoothly, Sorcha maneuvered through the group to walk beside him and gently grasped his hand. 

“The dead are following.” The statement came from all three elves, causing the group to stop for a heartbeat. 

Sorcha squeezed Legolas’ hand and let go, walking past to stand beside her brother. Giving him a look, she spoke; “They have been summoned.”.

Gimli in a full blown panic, swung in a circle, his ax at the ready called out; “The dead? Summoned?” 

Looking back the way they’d come, the dwarf missed that the rest of the company walked on without him. 

“I knew that!” his voice reached out in the dark causing Sorcha to smile and stop. She grabbed Halea’s arm as the woman walked by her and the two turned to wait for Gimli. They were not disappointed when his worried voice echoed down the tunnel; “Very good - Legolas! Sorcha!” before he appeared in the light of their torch a heartbeat later. 

He skidded to a halt and took in the amused looks on the girls faces, before dropping his gaze and grumbling walked past them. The girls grinned wider and hurried after the dwarf, catching up just as he caught up with the rest of the group. Rounding a bend in the tunnel, the ground beneath their feet vanished in a blanket of mist. As the group slowly walked, the mist grew thicker and higher, until to all but Gimli, it was near their waists. Gimli however, found the mists, and the shapes of ghostly hands it formed, reached for his face. In a distressed act, he began to blow at the apertures, before waving his ax in front of his face to clear the air. A moment later, Aragorn’s froze and his voice called out; 

“Do not look down.” 

The sickening sounds of a loud crunch/pop filled the air and Halea gave Sorcha a sick look. 

“Do as he says.” Sorcha repeated. “You will regret it if you do not.” she added. 

With her chin held high, she continued walking, the Dúnedain rangers following her example despite the sickening sounds coming from under their feet. Gimli however, was not so wise and looked down just as the mist began to clear. Not heeding Sorcha or Aragorn’s words, he glanced down at the crunching sound beneath his feet and grimaced, seeing the floor covered in bones. The brittleness of them giving way beneath the weight of the company as they walked.

Emerging from the tunnel, Sorcha let out a pained gasp and grabbed Halea’s arm. The company froze and formed a tight circle around her. Aragorn moved close, took in her pale expression, glassy eyes and frowned. 

“What is it?” he asked softly. 

“Can you not feel it?” Sorcha asked. “How can so much pain and anger linger?” she asked, her voice becoming hollow. “The dead do not suffer the living to pass. They are waiting - we are here.” 

Suddenly, like an arrow released from a bow, the air in the tunnel dropped in temperature and and breeze began to bow, pushing against them towards the darkness of the tunnel. As one, the company turned and followed Aragorn as he quickly moved a few feet forward, rounded a corner and slid down a slight embankment. The tunnel opened into a huge open cavern, with a chasm in the center and a huge stone ruin in the center. Following Aragorn, the company followed along the edge of the chasm and stopped at the base of the stone steps. Looking around, the sound of falling stones and the breathing of the group was the only sound. Moving to stand beside Aragorn, Sorcha starred at the base of the step where she knew the King would appear. Seeing the look on her face, Aragorn began to turn in the same direction just as the ghost king’s voice echoed out over the cavern, filling the air and vibrating through their bodies. 

“Who enters my domain?” 

Taking a half step back, Sorcha nodded at Aragorn and he boldly replied; “One who will have your allegiance.” 

“The dead do not suffer the living to pass.” the king answered, his ghostly form finally shimmering into view. 

A few of the grey company members, plus Halea all swiveled their heads to look at Sorcha, her earlier words echoed around them, now from the darkness of the ghost king. 

“You will suffer me!” Aragorn replied loudly, causing the company to return their attention to the details around them. 

The eerie sound of the ghost king’s laugh filled the air as he cackled. With looks of fear and awe, the company turned to look across the chasm where the remains of a city now appeared and the army of the dead began to appear and march towards them: across the open space. Without a word, the company formed a loose circle in an attempt to protect each other. Aragorn glanced towards Sorcha to discover that she had not moved. She stood as she had before, still staring at the ghost king. 

“The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead and the dead keep it.” the ghost king hissed as he began to shimmer and move closer to the company. “The way is shut. Now you must die.” 

The hiss of a bow being drawn and the clang of an arrow on the stone floor caused Sorcha to jump and whirl around. In one fluid movement, she grabbed Legolas’s arm and shook her head. “No.” she hissed, the rest of the company slowly lowering their weapons at her expression. “Wait.” her soft word was barely heard against the otherworldly wind that now filled the cavern. 

“I summon you to fulfill your oath.” Aragorn declared, taking a step towards the ghost king and drawing Andúril as he did so. 

“None but the King of Gondor man command me!” the ghost king replied, swinging his sword down towards Aragorn’s head. 

The clang of metal filled the air, echoing out causing everyone - the ghosts included to freeze in confusion. Sorcha simply smiled and crossed her arms, standing in a pose that looked totally relaxed. 

“That line was broken.” the ghost kings hissed. His comment turned into a choking sound as Aragorn reached out and grabbed him by the throat and held Andúril to the king's neck. 

“It has been remade.” Aragon’s answer caused a whisper of confused voices to fill the room as he shoved the ghost king away. A moment of tense silence fell while Aragorn looked around at the ghostly soldiers near him before speaking; 

“Fight for us and regain your honor.” Looking around he softly asked: “What say you?” 

When no reply came, Gimli groaned. 

“You waste your time Aragorn. They had no honor in life, they have none now in death.” Gimli said, his voice filling the cavern as he shifted back and forth from foot to foot. Elladan and Elrohir with a look from Sorcha both reached out and grasped one of his shoulders. A look of confusion crossed the Dwarf’s face before the twins pointed his attention to Sorcha and her scowl. The dwarf fell silent. 

“I am Isildur’s heir. Fight for me and I will hold your oaths fulfilled.” Aragorn called out, the tip of Andúril pointing out at the see of figures. “What say you?” Turning to look once more at the king, he called out again; “What say you?” 

For a heartbeat, there was no reply. Sorcha glanced across the chamber to the far wall and her eyes found the exit she knew to be there. Suddenly the echo of harsh laughter again filled the room and the ghost king laughed. Aragorn again called out, begging for an answer,”You have my word! Fight for me and I will release you from this living death!” but the ghost army simply began to fade away. Suddenly there was a rush of wind and the air thinned, followed by a great crashing sound and the room began to shake. 

“Run!” Sorcha cried, jolting the attention of everyone in the room to her as she pointed to the far wall. “Now! Run!” she cried. 

Not waiting for further instructions, the grey company did as instructed, Elladan and Elrohir grabbing Gimli by the arms and helping the dwarf to move quickly just at the top of the ruins exploded and a sea of skeletal bones began to rush towards the group. Running to her brother, Sorcha grabbed his hand and gave him a harsh tug, pulling him past her. The last to leave, Sorcha and Aragorn fought their way through the falling remains and they were nearly pushed from the edge of the path into the darkness of the chasm below. Losing her grip on her brother's hand Sorcha lost her footing and fell, the bones carrying her towards the edge. Scrambling for something to grab and stop her descent, Sorcha heard her name yelled and felt the ground disappear from beneath her. In that second, she knew she was falling over the edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] I See Fire - Celtic Woman  
> [2] The curse Isildur said to the King of the Mountain.
> 
> On another note, don’t you just hate cliffhangers? ;)


	17. Hope is Kindled

The darkness surrounded Sorcha as she fell, until a few heartbeats later, the air was knocked from her lungs as she slammed into the ground and began to slide. The darkness disappeared and Sorcha found herself blinded by the sudden light just as she slid to a stop amidst a huge pile of bones and dust. Coughing, she made her way to the edge of the heap and looked around, finding herself at the base of the mountain, near the water. A voice pulled Sorcha’s attention back to the present as the ghost king appeared before her. 

“The same blood flows in your veins.” he said, moving slightly closer. 

“It does. Aragorn is my brother-.” she replied, eyeing the ghost king. 

“I will not risk my people.” he said, beginning to fade. 

“So you will wallow in darkness and decay for the rest of eternity? Curses are not easily broken. Do not think that Sauron will free you. Is that the fate you would willingly choose for your people?” she asked quickly. 

The ghost king reappeared and whirled on Sorcha. Standing her ground, she glared at him until he nodded slightly. 

“Your company is over the ridge behind you.” he said before vanishing. 

The smell of smoke and the screams from nearby echoed out across the land and Sorcha realized with a start that she was just outside the town of Pelargir. Letting out the breath she’d been holding, Sorcha scrambled towards the water’s edge and followed the flat land until she heard voices. Dropping down behind a scraggly bush, she waited and listened.

“How can we hope to defeat the corsairs? Especially now with all our hope gone.” a voice spoke softly. 

Sorcha moved from her hiding place but was stopped by a hand over her mouth and an arm around her waist. Struggling with all her might, she found herself thrown to the ground and looking up at the faces of soldiers wearing the armor of Dol Amroth. 

“We found this spy m’lord Erchirion.” one of the soldiers said, making room in the circle of faces for a new one. 

“She is dressed in the garb of a Dúnedain ranger. I do not believe she is a spy.” the new face replied before offering Sorcha his hand and helping her to her feet. 

Once she was standing and had shaken the dirt from her cloak, the man took a step back and frowned. “You are Sorcha.” he said quietly. “Sister of Maeve.” 

Sorcha froze and looked at the man in confusion. “How-?” she asked. 

“We were sent to wait for the King. Lord Aragorn-.” the man explained. “I am prince Erchirion of Dol Amroth. These men with me are here under my father’s banner to swear our allegiance to the King.” he explained. 

“In that case, you’d best come to the town.” a new voice, that Sorcha recognized as Elladan’s called out. 

Everyone in the group turned to look up the embankment in time to see two elves lower their bows. Sorcha pushed her way through the group of soldiers from Dol Amroth and up the embankment to embrace the twins. 

“You gave us all a scare brethil {princess}.” Elrohir whispered, letting her step away. 

“Your betrothed informed us you were yet alive, however your brother is not-.” 

Sorcha held up her hand to stop his words and subtly nodded to the group behind her. 

“Come. We must find Lord Aragorn.” she said. Her tone of voice made the twins look slightly confused before they turned and led the way down the hill towards a huge group of soldiers that were gathered outside of the burning ruins of Pelargir. The soldiers parted, allowing Sorcha, the twins and Erchirion to pass. As they approached an un-burned barn, a loud voice arguing outside of it made Sorcha smile and she quickened her step to approach her friend. 

“The city is in ruins! We were barely able to hold the corsairs at bay and you want us to charge into battle with an unseen army? We-.” A soldier was red in the face from yelling at Gimli. 

“Galda!” Erchirion called out, stopping the soldier mid rant. “That is enough. Return to your post immediately.” The soldier bowed stiffly and left. “I apologize master dwarf for the actions of my men.” Erchirion said, drawing Gimli’s attention. 

“He’s endured worse than that, travelling with an elf and two rangers.” Sorcha said, her voice teasing. 

Gimli whirled around to face her, just as Sorcha dropped to her knees and was pulled into a crushing hug. 

“Of all the foolish, idiotic-.” Gimli started to say before he pulled away. “I am very glad to see ya’ lass.” He added. 

Sorcha smiled and stood. “Where are they?” she asked. 

Gimli pointed to the barn a few feet away and she moved towards it, Erchirion and the twins following close behind her. 

“My lord, Aragorn, we have no way to take control of the corsair fleet, what you seek to do is impossible!” the voice from inside the tent, Sorcha recognized as Halea’s father Halbarad. Reaching for the barn door, Sorcha stopped short when Halea stormed out and rammed the door then herself into Erchirion, who was standing beside her. 

“Forgive me sir -.” she started to say but stopped when she took in the sight of her friend. “Sorcha!? How? You fell?”

A heartbeat later, Sorcha found herself being crushed in an embrace. The second Halea let her go and stepped back, a heavy silence fell as Sorcha took in her brother’s scowl from where he stood just inside the barn’s door. 

“Auca i ane-lai. {That was very foolish.}” Aragorn said, looking her over to ensure she was unhurt. 

“What? I just took a page out of your book. You’ll remember that you took a tumble off a cliff first.” Sorcha replied with a cheeky grin, stepping away from Halea to stand in front of her brother.

“Sea, ach bhí a fhios agat go raibh sé sábháilte. Ní raibh an ráthaíocht chéanna againn. {Yes, but you knew he was safe. We did not have the same guarantee.}” Legolas’ voice said from behind her. 

The smile fell from her face at his words and Aragorn quickly ushered everyone from the barn, leaving them alone. 

“Ní raibh i gceist agam-. Bhí a fhios agam go bhféadfá mothú orm fós - {I didn’t mean to -. I knew you could still feel me-.}” Sorcha stopped her muddled string of half sentences when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

Slowly turning around, she found herself being folded into a warm embrace and searing kiss. 

“B’fhéidir gur cheart dúinn aillte a sheachaint as seo amach. {Perhaps we should avoid cliffs from now on.}” Legolas said once he pulled back from the kiss. 

Resting her forehead against his chest Sorcha nodded. “Agreed.” she said softly. 

“There will be time for that once we win the war.” Gimli’s voice said as he peeked his head around the door “Come on, we’ve orc to kill and I’m not leaving any for you if you don’t come.” 

Legolas smiled and Sorcha laughed, before they left the barn hand in hand. 

* * *

Silently joining the rest of the grey company, Legolas stood still between Elladan and Elrohir. Halea quickly explained that the prince from Dol Amroth was insisting on swearing fealty to Aragorn before they went into battle. Nodding her thanks to her friend, Sorcha moved to stand to her brother's left. The moment she stopped moving, silence fell over the company and Aragorn looked lost. Stepping forward, Sorcha began to speak; 

“In the name of the land on which you stand, I call all those present to bear witness.” Looking at Erchirion she asked him to kneel and speak his name. 

“Erchirion, second son of Imrahil the Prince of Dol Amroth.” 

“Your dagger, Erchirion.” Sorcha asked, holding out her hand. 

After holding the weapon high for all to see, she asked the prince to offer it to Aragorn. 

“Do you swear your fealty, pledge your loyalty and declare never to raise your hand in rebellion lest the iron you hold pierce your heart?” [1] Sorcha asked. 

“I swear.” Erchirion said, his voice echoing out over those gathered. 

“I accept your fealty.” Aragorn replied. 

“Rise, Erchirion; in service of your king.” Sorcha said, stepping back. 

A moment of silence fell over those gathered until the wind changed and the smell of smoke drew their attention back to the remains of the town. Quickly explaining her plan, the grey company made for the top of a cliff downriver and the soldiers from Dol Amroth made for the bend in the river. Aragorn, Sorcha, Gimli and Legolas moved quickly through the rocks until they stood on an outcropping and waiting for the corsair ships. 

* * *

Once the four were alone, the green form of the ghost king appeared and approached Aragorn. 

“We fight!” he declared before vanishing. 

“Well - this will be fun.” Sorcha said with a smile. 

“Your idea of fun and mine are two very different things sister.” Aragorn said before moving to stand on the rocky shore waiting for the corsair ships. 

They’d only been waiting a few moments when the first ship rounded the corner of the river and began to sail past. At an encouraging nod from Sorcha, Aragorn called out; 

“You may go no further! You will not enter Gondor.” his voice echoing out across the water, bolstered by a tiny waive of magic from Sorcha, was heard by every corsair present. 

Laughter quickly replaced the echo of his voice as every mercenary began to laugh, the captain of the nearest ship walked towards the rail and yelled back; 

“Who are you to deny us passage?” 

“The King.” Sorcha muttered. “Or at least, the man who would be King.” 

Ignoring his sister, Aragorn softly said;” Legolas, fire a warning shot past the bosun’s ear.” 

Acting at his friend’s request, Legolas reached back and removed an arrow from his quiver. Sorcha smiled and gently tapped Gimli on the arm before nodding at the elf. A look of understanding crossed the dwarf’s face and he muttered; “Mind your aim.” before tapping his ax to the bottom of Legolas’s bow just at the second he loosed the arrow. In a shot he’d forever be teased about, the elf missed his mark. Instead of passing the bosun harmlessly, it struck the mercenary beside him - killing the man. 

“Right! You’ve been warned.” Gimli yelled out. “Prepare to be boarded!” 

“Boarded? By you and whose army?” the bosun called back laughing. 

Sorcha grinned and looked at her brother, mimicking him as he softly answered; “This army.” 

It was over in minutes. The army of the dead swarmed the corsair ships at the same time as the soldiers and Dúnedain swung down from the cliffs above the ships. With all of the corsair mercenaries dead, the ships were quickly taken over by the capable sailors of Dol Amroth. After sending out a line to Aragorn and the others, Sorcha used her magic to stabilize it and soon the four were on board. Knowing they’d have a few hours until they reached the dock at Osgiliath, Sorcha grabbed Halea and pulled her to the back of the ship. After sitting her friend down, she slowly and quietly began to explain everything that had happened since they’d last seen each other. 

* * *

The last corsair ship had entered the narrow river from the mouth of the bay when a call caught Sorcha’s attention. 

“Lord Aragorn! There’s a ship approaching.” 

Sorcha and Halea stun around to look behind them and were soon joined by Aragorn, Legolas and Erchirion. 

“It carries the banners of Dol Amroth.” Legolas said after a moment. 

“Dol Amroth?” Sorcha and Aragorn said at the same time, before they turned to look at the prince. 

“That would mean my father -.” Erchirion started. “How do we contact them to inform them that we are not enemies?” he asked suddenly. 

Sorcha grinned and called out; “Leave that to me.” before she disappeared below deck. 

A few moments later, she returned with a huge coil of rope tied one end to the stern of the boat. After tying a couple of large shields together, muttering a soft string of words under her breath as she did, she stepped back and asked for some help. The makeshift raft was quickly hefted and lowered over the rail and into the water, the rope anchoring it to the ship. 

“Off you go.” Sorcha said to Erchirion, pointing to the water. “Best way for your father to know we are not corsair mercenaries is for you to tell him.” 

The prince nodded before grabbing the large rope and preparing to use it like a zip-line to the raft. After a quick word, it was decided that a member of the grey company would join him and Halea volunteered. Once the two were on the raft, Sorcha loosened the coil of rope and the raft began to float towards the Dol Amroth ship. As they watched and Legolas explained what he could see happening, hope quickly grew like a wildfire at the knowledge that they were not as outnumbered as they’d originally thought.

* * *

“Cousin please! I beg you do not give in to the madness that has taken my uncle. The people need their captain!” Lothíriel begged, tears streaming down her face as she watched Faramir mount his horse. 

“Where does my allegiance lie, if not here?” he asked before turning his horse and riding away. 

Lothíriel collapsed to her knees in despair, before Ana approached and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

“Not all has turned to madness. You will see him again.” she whispered. 

Taking a steadying breath, the princess looked the hobbit in the eye and nodded. Standing resolutely, she looked across the street to see the last of the riders leaving the safety of the city. “Well then Ana, we’d best make sure the city is still standing when I do.” 

Without a further look at Ana, she strode away, yelling out orders as she did. 

“Swift as a coursing river.” Ana said softly watching the princess move through the crowd. 

“With all the force of a great typhoon.” Maeve’s amused voice responded. 

Laughing the sisters quickly made their way to their stops atop the wall, their plan for the defense of the city firmly in place. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] this is a loose variation of the pledge of fealty from the Outlander books by Diana Gabaldon.  
> Anyone catch the other references that I didn't label? Mulan,


	18. City in Flames

**Maeve**

“Open the gates!” 

The cry from the soldiers above the archway stopped Maeve in her tracks. “Faramair.” she muttered, panic running through her as a wash of memories came. By the time she pushed through the crowd of soldiers to get to the gate, neither the horse, nor Faramir’s unconscious body were anywhere to be seen. Her initial reaction was to run for the top tier of the city to prevent what she knew would happen, but in the same moment, the rest of the knowledge of the coming battle hit her. Looking up, she rushed for the nearest flight of stone steps, yelling; “Shields! Shields up!” as she did. 

Halfway up, the first sound of thudding and cries of anger, fear and disgust filled the air. Immediately Denethor’s voice echoed out for the men to flee, a word and look from Maeve, followed by Gandalf’s echoing call of ‘Prepare for Battle!’ stilled every man in place. 

“Aredhel, how do we stand in the face of such evil?” a voice asked. 

Turning to look, Maeve found the fearful eyes of a soldier looking at her and caught the movement of others, straining to hear her answer. 

“Nothing is more dangerous than someone who does what is wrong, believing it to be right. When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time, they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall.[1]” 

The men around her stood a little taller at her words before looking back out at the approaching enemy.

* * *

**Ana**

Ana grabbed Pippin’s arm and pulled him behind a pillar as Denethor stormed past them. 

“Listen to me carefully Pip.” she said, catching his attention. “I have a mission for you and it is a matter of life and death.” 

Pippin looked worried for a split second before nodding and waiting for Ana’s explanation.. 

“As you know, there are many things that my sisters and I know will happen.” 

Pippin nodded at this and looked around them, making sure no one was listening. “Are you about to tell me something is going to happen, like what happened to Gandalf when we were in Moria?” he asked softly. 

Ana blanched and nodded. “It’s about Faramir. In a few minutes, he’s going to be carried up here and his father is going to panic about him being dead. I promise Pip, he’s not. No matter what they tell you, Farmir is alive. Your job is to ensure he stays that way.” 

“How?” 

“That’s up to you. I’m going to go get my healing pouch. If I’m not back in a few minutes and Denethor has taken him into the crypt beside the main hall, then you run for Gandalf.” 

Pippin nodded and Ana took off at a run from the building. Dodging people as she ran through the crowded streets, she jumped when a loud cry filled the air. 

“Look out!” the cry from the wall caused Ana to duck as a loud crash was heard above her head. Grabbing her skirts, she lifted the hem and continued running up the hill. 

“How could I be so stupid.” she muttered as she ran. “Why did I leave my supplies in the room? Because I thought I had more time…. Nope.” she shook her head as she ran. 

Suddenly a loud crash was heard and felt. Looking up, Ana gasped to see a large chunk of wall above her head break away and start to fall towards her. Throwing herself against the wall in an attempt to miss being hit by the rubble, Ana sighed in relief when the rock hit the ground, missing her. Stepping around the pile, the last thing she saw was a group of soldiers carrying the body of Faramir up the hill before another piece of rubble fell and hit her on the head.

* * *

**Maeve**

Night was fully fallen by the time it registered on Maeve's mind that she’d not seen her sister. A break in the wave of enemies allowed her to reach out to Ana. Feeling only darkness, she frowned but didn't have time to search for a reason. 

“Maeve!” 

Hearing her name, she wove through the soldiers towards Gandalf. 

“We are needed at the gate.” Gandalf said. 

Nodding, she heard a soft nicker and turned around to find Brennil standing in the street. A smile lit up her face before she swung herself onto the back of the Mearas and they took off after Gandalf and Shadowfax. Arriving at the gate, she heard the men on the walkway above begin to speak in worried tones. 

“Aredhel, Mithrandir, a large machine is being pulled towards the gate!” a voice called out from above. 

“Grond.” Maeve hissed. “The demon boar.” 

Gandalf turned to look at her before calling a group of soldiers over to stand at the gate. 

Following his lead, she urged Brennil up the stairs to the top of the wall. 

“Aredhel, the substance you ordered spread throughout the lower level is in place.” a soldier bearing a captain’s mark said. 

Maeve nodded and launched another volley of arrows out into the dark. A moment later a loud crash was heard and Gandalf’s voice filled the air. 

“You are soldiers of Gondor. No matter what comes through that gate, you will stand your ground.” 

“Archers, below.” Maeve called out. At her command, the back row of archers pivoted in their places and pointed their weapons into the courtyard below them. 

“Ready-.” her voice called out. A heartbeat later, an army of cave trolls rushed through the broken gate and into the courtyard. 

“Fire!” she yelled. 

They were soon outnumbered and Maeve gave Gandalf the signal to retreat. Whirling on Shadowfax, his call of ‘retreat’ had the soldiers scrambling through the street to get to the second level. Following at the back, Maeve grabbed a burning torch as she rode. Arriving just outside the gate to the second level, she whirled Brennil around to face the oncoming enemies. 

“All souls accounted for lady Aredhel.” a voice called out. 

Smiling, she reached down and touched the flame of the torch to a channel in the road. Flame burst forth and she dropped the torch. Slowly backing up, Brennil soon was inside the gate of the second level and the sight of the lowest level of the city burning in green flame was the last thing Mave saw before the gate closed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Mahatma Gandhi
> 
> So, I was going to try and keep the battle all in one chapter, but this was not to be. The Calvary will be arriving next.


	19. Trumpets of Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as this kills me, I have decided that a large chunk of the battle/Minas Tirith rescue is going to get skipped. I have a ton of character development/plot to still add in and something’s got to give. Besides, most of the battle does not include my OC’s. If you really want battle scenes -- I recommend 110% that you watch the extended version of The Return of the King. All of the good stuff is in there.

**Maeve**

“Can you feel the shift in the air Gandalf?” Maeve whispered as they stood atop the second level gate. “Dawn is upon us.” 

The wizard was spared a response when a familiar voice caught their attention: 

“Maeve! Gandalf! Where is Gandalf?” Pippin’s voice drew the attention of the elf and wizard from their vigil at the gate. 

“Pippin!” Maeve called his name as he rounded the corner of the building and walked into the line of sight. 

“You must come!” The hobbit said, fear plain on his face. “Denethor has lost his mind! He’s burning Faramir alive!” 

Maeve and Gandalf exchanged a look before moving towards the hobbit. 

“Come Pip.” Maeve said, hauling the hobbit up onto Brennil’s back and following him. 

“Amrothos, you’re in command.” Maeve called out, catching the Prince’s attention as they rode past, Gandalf and Shadowfax quickly catching up. 

They’d just rode past the third level gate when Maeve asked; 

“Pippin, have you seen Ana?” 

“She said she was going for her healing supplies.” he replied with a shake of his head. “She told me if she wasn’t back in time to go find Gandalf.” 

Maeve was stopped from answering by a splitting shriek that filled her mind. With a gasp, she would have fallen to the ground had Gandalf not rode up beside her and grabbed her arm. 

“He is come.” her voice took on an eerie tone and Maeve turned to look at Gandalf. Pippin turned to look and let out a squeak at the gassy look on Maeve’s face. 

“Remember the past and that there is a future.” [1] she said, her voice still echoing. “Magic is desire made real, and none has more desire then he.”[2] 

As suddenly as it began, it ended and Maeve was herself again. Looking at Gandalf in confusion, she blanched at his question;

“Who is come?” 

“Darkness. The one who would turn hope to despair and victory to death. Angmar.” 

This time it was Gandalf who blanched and Maeve slowly reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm. 

“We must hurry. Faramir is counting on us, but I have a plan.” Maeve said in a soft voice. 

Reaching out, she grabbed a flag pole from where it was leaning against a nearby wall. Muttering softly under her breath, she waved her hand over it. A heartbeat later, the air around the pole shimmered and began to change. Once the shimmering stopped, Maeve reached out and took Gandalf’s staff from his hand, handing him the replica she’d created. 

“Arrogance will be the downfall of our enemy.” she explained before leading the way up the hill. 

Skidding to a stop, she saw to an opening in the road at the other end of a short tunnel and pointed. 

“You must face him alone.” Maeve explained as Gandalf nudged Shadowfax forward.

“The moment he was through the tunnel and on the road in the open, the Witch King appeared, his fellbeast screeching as it dropped from the sky. Feeling Pippin stiffen in front of her, she gently squeezed his arm, the reassurance causing the hobbit to relax slightly. 

“Go back to the abyss!” Gandalf cried out, brandishing his ‘staff’. “Fall into the nothingness that awaits you and your master!” 

“Do you not know death when you see it, old man?” Angmar’s whispering hiss filled the air, sending a chill up Maeve’s spine. Angmar reached his arm over his body and drew his sword, yelling out as he did so; “This is my hour!” 

The moment the words left his mouth, a wave of power flowed out, his sword lighting on fire and Shadowfax reared. Gandalf’s ‘staff’ shattered and he was knocked to the ground. Maeve threw up a wall of protection and Angmar’s magic flowed around her and Pippin harmlessly. 

Whirling in their direction, Angmar stared into the darkness of the tunnel. His voice stilling Maeve; 

“The little fallen star. You have failed. The world of men will fall. My master-.” 

In the middle of his rant, the echo of a horn filled the air, followed by the reply of many more and Angmar hissed before yanking the reins of the fellbeast and whirling the creature away, 

“And the cavalry has arrived.” Maeve muttered as she nudged Brennil forward. Helping Gandalf up, she handed him his staff and nodded. 

“Desire made real indeed.” he said after climbing back onto Shadowfax. 

“Take Pippin.” Maeve said, helping the hobbit over to sit with Gandalf. “Now go! Faramir needs you and I must return to the front.” 

Without a further word, she turned Brennil back and they galloped away. 

* * *

**Sorcha**

Crouching low on the deck of the boat, Sorcha reached out with her powers and tried to let Ana and Maeve know they’d arrived. Feeling only darkness, worry began to creep up in her and Legolas reached out and gently squeezed her hand.

“Beidh gach rud go maith. {All will be well.}” he whispered. 

Looking over, she nodded before squeezing his hand in return. 

A heartbeat later, the echo of a horn filled the air and Sorcha smiled. 

“The Calvary’s arrived.” she whispered. 

Confused looks focused on her and she shook her head smiling. 

“Rohan.” she explained. “Looks like we’re just in time for the party.” she said. 

“Party?” Halea and Erchirion whispered in confusion. 

A moment later, a raspy voice filled the air as their corsair ship docked. 

“Late! As usual, pirate scum. There’s knife-work here needs doing! Come on, you sea rats! Get off your ships!” 

Sorcha grinned and looked over at her brother, then back at Legolas. “As you wish.”[3] she said, before rising from her spot and throwing herself over the edge of the ship and onto the doc below. The thumps of the others hitting the doc beside her gave her courage and she glanced to the right at the brother. 

“There’s plenty for the three of us.” Gimli said, talking a step towards the enemy. 

“May the best woman win.” Sorcha said with a smirk, cutting him off. 

Letting out a yell, Aragorn took off at a run, the others falling in behind him. Swept up in the battle, Sorcha soon found herself near the corpse of a downed oliphant. Rounding the leg, she followed Erchirion and Halea. Skidding to a stop at the sound of movement behind her, Sorcha swung around and missed Erchirion almost being beheaded. A sword was swung at his head, but he was pulled back at the last second by Halea. Leaving her friend and the prince to fight their way together, Sorcha caught sight of Aragorn and Gimli in the sea of bodies and fought her way towards them. 

A second later, the rumble of an oliphant crashing to the ground nearly knocked her off her feet and she whirled around to face the elf she knew would be sliding down the creature’s trunk. 

“That still only counts as one.” she and Gimli cried out when Legolas landed between them. 

Moving towards her brother, Sorcha reached out and touched his arm, the screams and echoes of the battle fading in the midst of their victory. Looking around, she smiled to see that the battle was nearly over. 

“Looks like we’ve got a mess to clean up, brother.” she teased, elbowing him lightly. 

Aragorn looked at her with a small smile before a frown filled his face and he took a step past her. Seeing a figure in white, Sorcha took a step towards Gandalf just as the ghost king’s voice filled the air. 

“Release us.” the demand sent a chill down her spine as she turned to watch. 

“Bad idea.” Gimli said. “Very handy in a tight spot these lads, despite the fact they're dead.”

“You gave us your word.” the ghost king hissed, moving slightly towards Aragorn who stiffened. 

Despite the exhaustion washing over her, Sorcha sent a wave of power towards her brother in encouragement. The moment it reached him, she watched as he visibly sighed before speaking;

“I hold your oaths fulfilled. Go, be at peace.” Aragorn’s soft reply made Sorcha smile as the wind picked up and the ghost’s began to blow away. 

Turning back the way she’d been walking, she grinned and dropped to her knees when Pippin saw her and took off at a run. Crashing into her, Pippin smiled and crushed her with a hug. 

“Good to see you’re alive Master Took.” she teased, letting the hobbit go. 

“Same with you. Maeve said you were here. Right before she left to go in search of Ana that is.” Pippin said, the words tumbling from his mouth. 

“Ana!” Sorcha exclaimed, jumping to her feet at the same moment that Éomer’s scream ripped through the air. Glancing down at the hobbit, she whispered; “Find Merry.” before running over to Éomer. Skidding to a stop, she caught the Marshall's attention and crouched near the man, gently coaxing Éowen’s unconscious body from his grasp. 

“All will be well, you have my word.” she whispered to the man before waving Legolas and Gimli over. With their help, the gently placed Éowen’s body on a large shield and a group of soldiers, including prince Erchirion, followed Sorcha as she led the way to the healing houses. 

* * *

**Maeve**

Arriving back at the gate, Maeve jumped from Brennil’s back and landed beside Amrothos. 

“It’s time.” she said when the prince turned to look at her. 

Grinning, he pulled his sword from its scabbard and called the men to attention. 

“Our enemy thinks he has bested us, yet the world of men still stands.” Amrothos declared, turning to face the gate. “For Gondor!” he yelled. 

“For Gondor!” the men cheered back. 

“Open the gates! Release the flood!” Maeve called. 

“Amrothos!” she caught the prince’s attention just before the gate opened. “Try not to die. Your sister would never forgive me.” she added with a smile. 

The prince looked at her in confusion before a smile filled his face. “Same to you Aredhel.” he said before the two of them led the charge through the gate and into the still burning city beyond. 

A wave of soldiers fell in line behind Maeve and Amrothos as they led the charge, their actions effectively sandwiching the remaining forces of Mordor between two armies. Seeing an orc archer take aim at Amrothos, Maeve pulled her small snake dagger from its place coiled around her arm. With a cry, she flung the weapon at the orc and moved to shove Amrothos out of the way. Her aim was true and the dagger stuck in the orcs head, the movement causing the creature to jerk and its aim to be off when the arrow loosed, missing both Maeve and Amrothos. 

“You alright?” Maeve asked as she climbed to her feet and held out her hand. 

Nodding, Amrothos grabbed her hand and let Maeve haul him to his feet. Releasing her hand, he took a step towards the orc corpse and pulled Maeve’s dagger free. Turning back to Maeve, he wiped the dagger on his sleeve before handing it over. Nodding her thanks, Maeve looked around and found no more enemies nearby, Walking to the edge of the wall she looked down and grinned at the sight of a green wave washing over the level of the city below. 

“It was a well thought out plan Maeve.” Amrothos said, moving to stand beside her. 

“I’m just glad you were able to convince the council to agree to it. Abandoning the lower level would seem to many like a sign of defeat.” Maeve replied. 

“Many thought that at first. However, your reputation and the reputation of your companions, namely your sisters, precedes you.” Amrothos replied. “Now come, we have things to attend to.” 

“You go. I have to find Ana.” Maeve answered, a worried frown on her face. “You’ll find your brothers and your father on the field. Stay close to Gandalf and you should find them rather quickly.” 

Without waiting for a reply, Maeve turned and walked back up the hill, knowing she had to find her sister. 


	20. The Healing Houses

Sorcha & Maeve 

Following the men as they carried  Éowen’s body into the city, Sorcha was soon distracted by a soft pressure on her mind. Stopping and listening, she found her feet pulling her up the hills and around a destroyed building. Stopping, she saw a figure hunched over the rubble and realized with a start that it was Maeve. 

“M-Maeve-” Sorcha’s voice came out soft and worried. 

Stilling, her sister slowly rose and turned to face her. With a shout, the sisters were soon running towards each other and throwing their arms out. 

“You’re alive!” Sorcha laughed, finally pulling away, but still holding Maeve’s arms. 

“As are you - not any worse for the wear I see.” Maeve replied. 

“I tried to reach you and Ana earlier, to let you know we were arriving, but-” 

“Ana’s disappeared. Right before the battle.” Maeve said. “As for your heads-up - it seems to be a side effect of the shackles I wore, I can feel you and Ana, but can’t communicate anymore.” 

“Did Ana give  Galyāhan back to you? We found it when we raided the tower - maybe that could help us find her?” Sorcha said, looking expectantly at Maeve. 

“I thought of that.” Maeve said. The wand has led me here, to that pile of rubble and you-.” 

The girls exchanged a panicked look before scrambling towards the pile of rubble and beginning to dig. A short while later, they saw curly hair and slowly pulled Ana’s unconscious body from beneath the rubble. Carrying her carefully between them, they quickly made their way to the healing house and found both Lial and  Lothíriel just inside the main entrance. 

“Miss Ana!” Lial exclaimed, moving quickly to clear off a nearby cot for the girls to place Ana on. 

“What happened?” Lothíriel asked. 

“The wall must have been struck by a boulder from the enemy and fallen onto her.” Sorcha said softly. 

“Lothíriel, is there anything you can do?” Maeve asked the princess.

Moving quickly, and with Lial’s help, the girls picked up the cot and moved it into a secluded room. Once there, the girls deftly examined Ana before Lothíriel took a step back and shook her head. 

“This is beyond my skill to heal. She must come back to us on her own time.” Lothíriel said sadly before leaving the room. .

“If only Miss Ana had her healers pouch with her when you found her.” Lial said softly. 

Sorcha and Maeve looked at Lial in confusion. 

“Her potion from the elves healed my mother, perhaps it would help heal her now.” Lial explained. 

“Why didn’t we think of that?” Maeve said, fixing Sorcha with a pointed look. 

Grumbling to herself, Sorcha took off at a run from the healing house. 

“I’ll stay with her Aredhl. I am sure you have other places to be.” Lial said shyly, looking at Maeve. 

“Not really. My sister is my only priority at the moment.” Maeve said offhandedly. 

“Sister - how-?” Lial asked in confusion. 

Maeve looked over at the young healer from Rohan and smiled. “It would seem my sisters have not done a good job of explaining things.” Moving towards the young woman, Maeve held out her hand. “Maeve. Elder sister of Sorcha and Ana.” 

Awe and embarrassment crossed Lial’s face before she slowly reached out and shook Maeve’s hand - mimicking the motion she’d seen both Ana and Sorcha do. 

“Lial, daughter of Laylan. Healer of Rohan.” 

“I can’t find it.” Sorcha said at that moment, skidding into the room out of breath. SHe must have hidden it, just like she did in Helm’’s Deep.” 

Maeve nodded, then looked at Lial, who was beginning to look distraught. 

“Lial, I promise you, Ana will be well. Do you think you could find us a couple of chairs?” Maeve asked. 

Nodding her head, Lial left and returned a moment later with two short stools. Taking them from her, the girls placed them on either side of the cot where Ana lay. 

“I’ll see to it you’re not disturbed.” Lial whispered as she left and silently closed the door behind her. 

“You sure about this?” Sorcha asked Maeve as they each reached out and gently grabbed one of Ana’s hands. 

“It’s the only way.” Maeve replied before closing her eyes. 

Sorcha followed her sister and closed her eyes, reaching out with her power, she felt the ring on her finger get warm for a heartbeat before, with a small gasp of air, she opened her eyes to find herself standing in a long tunnel version of the hallway from their childhood home. 

“Well, that's weird.” Maeve said, her voice echoing down the hallway. 

“Every door I can see is an exact copy of the door to Dy’s room at home-.” Sorcha muttered softly before reaching for the closest door and opening it. 

One by one the girls walked down the hallway, opening and closing doors as they went, in search of their sister. 

* * *

Ana

_ “The battle will be starting soon Lothíriel. You’re not wearing armor, do you not intend to fight?” Ana asked the princess of Dol Amroth as she joined her in the hallway outside the throne room.  _

_ Lothíriel shook her head and sighed. “I am going to the healing house. Maeve tells me my skill will be put to better use there.”  _

_ “I will be joining you shortly. I have one last thing to do.” Ana replied with a small smile.  _

_ Turning to walk away, she stopped in her tracks when Lothíriel called her name. Turning back, Ana found the princess looking at her with a distraught look on her face.  _

_ “Maeve has been very careful with her words, yet, I find I still worry for the future.” Pausing, Lothíriel moved to the side of the hallway and sat on a bench. With a small sigh, Ana moved and sat beside her.  _

_ “Sadly, the age of gallantry seems to be dead. You look around and all you see are small men, not big enough to fill their armor. There's not one of them that's able to stand for what is right _ _.[1] _ _ ” Lothíriel said, sadly.  _

_ “It always seems to be darkest before the dawn.” Ana said, turning to look at Lothíriel. “I promise, dawn will come and when it does the sun will shine out all the clearer for the darkness and despair the night held.”  _

_ Silence fell over the girls for a moment before Ana started to softly sing:  _

_ Be still, the dawn is breaking, _

_ Listen as the blackbird sings. _

_ Find a heart to share your journey, _

_ Together for all life brings. _

_ The hunger and the longing, _

_ The wonder and the will. _

_ Your world is enchanted, _

_ When your mind is still. _

_ Be still, be still, be still.  _ _ [2] _

_ The last echoes of Ana’s song filled the hall and Lothíriel smiled. Wiping a tear from her cheek, she stood and thanked Ana before quickly walking away. With a sad smile, Ana took off in search of Pippin. _

* * *

“Time to open your eyes ceann beag  {little one} .” a gentle voice drew Ana’s attention. 

Slowly opening her eyes, she blinked due to the light shining into the room and gave out a confused gasp, finding her mother sitting on the end of her bed.

“Ma’?” Ana’s voice cracked as she slowly sat up and looked around the room. “How-?” 

“Ach’ my girl, tis’ but a dream.” her mother said sadly. 

“Then it is a good dream.” Ana whispered, tears streaming down her face as she quickly moved to embrace her mother. 

Their reunion was interrupted by the sound of feet coming from the otherside of a door. Pulling away, her mother sighed and opened her mouth to speak, interrupted by the sound of knocking at the door.

“That’ll be your sisters. I’m sorry ceann beag  {little one} that we’ve not had more time. Remember I love you and am so proud of everything you’ve done.” she said, standing. A heartbeat later, Ana watched as her mother shimmered and vanished, just as th4e door to the room opened and Maeve and Sorcha burst in. 

“Ana!” Maeve cried out.

“You’re alright!” Sorcha whispered, running over to her sister. 

“What’s going on?” Ana asked softly. 

“What do you remember?” Maeve asked softly. 

Ana closed her eyes and thought back. The memory of running through cobblestone street amid the screams of people came flooding back. Flinging her eyes open, she stared at her sisters. 

“I was going back to our rooms. I left my healing pouch hidden under my bed.” she whispered. 

“Hidden as in, spelled to hide?” Sorcha asked. 

Ana nodded. “If you look under the bed and say nochtann áit rúnda {secret place reveal.}, it should appear.” 

Sorcha nodded before turning towards the door and vanishing. 

“We’re in my mind aren’t we.” Ana said, turning to look at Maeve. 

“We are. I found you almost buried beneath a pile of rubble on the streets. Sorcha found me just then and we carefully pulled you out and took you to the healing house. Lothíriel says that there is nothing that can be done, your body needs to heal, but Sor and I refused to listen. We are currently sitting - or we were -sitting on either side of your bed.”

“You used the spells we learned for communication to walk into my mind.” Ana added. 

“Talk about odd, if we didn’t have to, I swear, Ana, I’d have never. It was weird. We opened our eyes and found ourselves at the end of a long hallway. We had to go from door to door trying to find you. Each door revealed a room, the embodiment of living memories and desires behind each door. It was - surreal.” 

“Then you found me,” Ana said. “But wait, if you and Sor can leave, how am I going to-?” she asked. 

“That’s why we needed to know where your healing pouch was. Sor and I figured that the  Galipë from Galadriel should heal you enough to wake you up from what we figured to be a comma.” Maeve explained. 

“So, now we just wait for Sorcha?” Ana asked. 

Maeve nodded and moved to sit beside Ana on the bed. Silence fell over the sisters before Maeve reached over and picked up a ukulele from the table beside Ana’s bed. 

“I haven’t seen this since we were kids.” Maeve said. 

“That makes sense as we’re in my childhood room.” Ana replied, teasingly. 

Shaking her head, Maeev started to pluck the strings of the instrument, her voice soon humming along. Recognizing the song, Ana started to softly sing along: 

_ Why are there so many songs about rainbows? _

_ And what's on the other side. _

_ Rainbows are visions, but only illusions. _

_ And rainbows have nothing to hide. _

_ So we've been told and some chose to believe it. _

_ But I know they're wrong, wait and see. _

_ Someday we'll find it, the Rainbow Connection. _

_ The lovers, the dreamers and me. _

_ Who said that every wish would be heard and answered? _

_ When wished on the morning star. _

_ Somebody thought of that and someone believed it. _

_ But look what it's done so far. _

_ What's so amazing, that keeps us stargazing? _

_ And What do we think we might see? _

_ Someday we'll find it, the Rainbow Connection. _

_ The lovers, the dreamers and me.  _

_ All of us under its spell, we know that it's probably magic.  _

_ Have you been half asleep and have you heard voices? _

_ I've heard them calling my name. _

_ Is this the sweet sound that called the young sailors? _

_ The voice might be one and the same. _

_ I've heard it too many times to ignore it. _

_ It's something that i'm supposed to be.  _

_ Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection. _

_ The lovers, the dreamers and me. _ _ [3]  _

“What’s this? Singing my favorite song without me?” Sorcha’s voice derw the girl's attention back to the door. 

“Guess we’ll have to sing it on the other side.” Ana replied. 

Exchanging a warm look, the sisters nodded before Sorcha and Maeve shimmered out of view, leaving Ana alone in her old bedroom. With one last look around, she took a step out into the hall and closed the door. Leaning her back against it, she closed her eyes and counted to ten. Opening her eyes, she found herself laying on her back, looking up at a group of worry filled faces. 

* * *

Maeve 

Opening her eyes, Maeve heard raised voices outside the door and slowly stood, her legs not wanting to hold her after sitting for so long. Slowly walking to the door, she opened it and found Gimli, Legolas, Pippin and Lothíriel on the other side, arguing with Lial. 

“You cannot go in.” Lial said firmly, fixing the group with a firm glare. 

Smiling, Maeve reached out and gently put a hand on Lial’s shoulder. 

“It’s ok Lial, they can come in now., Ana should be waking up in a minute.” Maeve said. 

One by one, the group entered the room, Legolas moving quickly to help Sorcha to her feet, and not letting go of her once she was standing. Maeve smiled at the sight and watched as Pippin slowly approached her sister. 

“Ana!” he cried out happily and plopped down on the stool beside her, just as her eyes opened. 

Gimli, Lothíriel and Lial all took a step towards the bed before Ana’s soft voice filled the room. 

“I’ll be ok. Just let me breathe.” 

Slowly helping her sit, Lothíriel and Lial each took a step back and stared at the healthier looking hobbit. 

“How is such a thing possible?” Lothíriel asked, looking around the room. 

“The magic of the elves.” Lial replied after a moment. “I’ve seen it once before, when Miss Ana used her elvish potion to save my mother’s life.” 

Lothíriel looked in shock at the healer from Rohan, then down at Ana. 

“Will this potion of yours help those that are beyond our care?” she asked. 

Ana nodded and moved to get off the cot before Sorcha handed her the healer’s pouch she still held. With a small smile, Ana looked around the room at her sisters and friends. 

“The healing of our world will not be an easy thing, yet it must be done. Even if it is one person at a time.” she said softly. “Lothíriel, Lial, I will need your help.” 

Without waiting for a reply, she slowly walked from the room, Pippin running after her followed by Lothíriel and Lial. 

“Take me to Éowyn?” Ana asked as Pippin caught up with her and liked her arm through his. 

“Lord Aragorn is with her.” Lial said as she and Lothíriel caught up. 

“The most trained healers here know not how to help with her or the other Shireling - the one master Pippin called Merry.” Lothíriel said as they walked. 

“They fought the Witch King of Angmar.” Aragorn’s voice said, drawing Ana’s attention. “It is good to see you Ana. I’ve used Athelas to slow the spread of the poison, but-.” 

Ana nodded and pulled the vial of  Galipë from her pouch and approached the pale lady. Glancing at a distraught looking  Éomer, she gave him a quick nod of encouragement before opening the vial and letting a single drop flow into Éowyn’s mouth. Returning the vial to its place on her belt, she gently grabbed Éowyn’s shattered arm and murmured: 

“ Nimh a bheith imithe  {Poison be gone.}”

Taking a step away, she turned to Lothíriel. “Her arm will still need to heal on its own, but the poison from the Morgul weapon will not be an issue.” Looking at Pippin, she fixed him with a look and asked: 

“Where is he?” 

Without waiting, Pippin led the way to a cot in a room filled with injured soldiers. Seeing Merry laying there, pale and still caused fear to take Ana for a heartbeat, before she repeated the process with Merry she’d done with Éowyn. While she waited for him to wake, she gently cleaned and wrapped the burn on his hand before joining Lial and showing her how to use water laced with  Galipë to help those with minor injuries and using it’s full strength to help those who were more severely injured. 

“Lady  Éowyn is awake.” Lothíriel said as she approached Ana and Lial a short while later. 

Smiling, Ana handed the vial of  Galipë to Lial before moving to run back across the room to Merry. She started to turn but stopped when she heard her name called. Turning slowly, she found Merry standing a few feet away from her, looking exhausted. Tears streaming down her face, she moved towards him. A heartbeat later, she crashed into him and Merry threw his arms around her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:   
> So, this chapter totally ran away with me…. And made me realize that I still have a ton to write, despite the fact that the story is almost done. 
> 
> [1] - Morgana says this in Merlin. I thought it was ironic to use, as my idea of Lothíriel is Katie McGrath -who played Morgana.   
> [2] Be Still - Celtic Woman   
> [3] Rainbow Connection - This is originally sung by Kermit the Frog, however this version was done in 2011 on the ‘Muppets Green Album’ and sung by Weezer & Hayley Wiliams.


	21. The Magic of Elves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They say that all good things must come to and end, and that seems to be true. . . .And so, we come to the end.....of Part 1 that is. In writing the next two chapters, I found that I was rushing and not happy, so I’ve decided to split the story from ‘The Return of the King’ into two parts…… Turns out I have more to write than I originally thought. So, in light of that, this is where the first part of our story must end. Tune in for the next part for the continuing adventures of Sorcha, Maeve and Ana - a.k.a. the start of part 2. 
> 
> Also, fair warning. . . . . this chapter mentions disturbing content. If you are wanting to avoid reading about burning piles of bodies - - - avoid the first half of the italic font. From “Sorcha stepped away from the pile” . . . . to “Seeing a familiar form, she quickened her pace”.

“Sorcha, you and Maeve should go. I’m of more use if I stay here.” Ana said, stepping away from a wash basin to look at her sisters. “You know they’ll need your counsel. Beside, Maeve, you know the family of Dol Amroth, only you can introduce them to Aragorn.” 

Seeing the wisdom in her words, Sorcha and Maeve left the healing house and headed for the throne room, stopping at the ‘swan wing’ along the way. 

“Pardon the intrusion-” Maeve said softly after they were led in by a serving girl.

“Maeve. Please come in, we were just discussing what to do next.” Lothíriel said from her place seated by the fire. 

“Lord Aragorn is calling for a council - as Elphir is not here and your father -” she broke off awkwardly. “I am sorry for your pain, but we need a representative from Dol Amroth present.” 

Pain crossed the sibling’s faces at her words before they all nodded. 

“I am going back to the healing house.” Lothíriel said, standing and fixing her brother’s with a look.

“You go, brother. I need to see to the rest of our men.” Amrothos said before following his sister from the room. 

Silence fell as Maeve stared at the remaining prince from Dol Amroth. 

“Thank you.” Erchirion said, finally breaking the silence. “For what you and your sisters did for my father.” 

Maeve nodded. “I am sorry there wasn’t more we could do for your family, It is a debt I truly wish to repay, after all, you did save me that day on the river.” 

Erchirion smiled and offered Maeve his arm. “Shall we go to the King’s council Aredhel?” he asked, teasingly. 

Maeve smiled and nodded, as they walked from the room, Sorcha fell into place behind them and followed along to the throne room, the memory of the previous day washing over her as she walked: 

_Sorcha stepped away from the pile of orc and creature bodies she’d been helping to create and wiped her stained hands on the front of her pants. Picking up another broken spear, she threw it too at the pile before taking a burning torch when it was handed to her. Reaching forward she set the flame at the small pool of green liquid seeping from the center of the pile and stepped back quickly when it caught fire and the flame began to spread._

_“Sor-.”_

_Hearing her name, she turned to see Maeve and Ana, covered in grime standing a little ways away._

_“This is a thing I wish we didn’t have to do.” she said sadly, as the girls walked towards the river._

_“It doesn't seem fair that the dead of both sides get the same result.” Ana muttered._

_“But it’s not the same. We go to honor our dead. The enemy - they will blow away on the wind and not be remembered.” Maeve said a frown firmly on her face._

_Seeing a familiar form, she quickened her pace, causing Sorcha and Ana to hurry to keep up._

_“Lothíriel? What are you doing here? I thought you’d be at the healing house still.” Maeve said, catching the princess’ attention._

_Lothíriel turned to face Maeve and the girls skidded to a stop at the pain filled look on her face._

_“That’s a look I know well.” Ana said softly._

_Swallowing audibly and taking a deep breath, Maeve took a tentative step towards her friend._

_“Who?”_

_With a sob, Lothíriel threw herself into Maeve and over her tears, the girls were able to discern the word ‘Ada’._

_Leaving Maeve to stand with her friend, Sorcha and Ana moved to find the rest of the fellowship. Sorcha, seeing a familiar grey cloak headed for it, leading Ana towards Halea. Wanting to join her friend, Sorcha smiled as she watched prince Erchirion offer Halea his hand, helping her stand when she was done attaching the last chain in the row of pyre boats. Looking back at Ana with a grin on her face, the smile fell from Sorcha’s face when she found Ana gone. Following the gentle tug that always led her to her sisters, she found Ana and Maeve side by side near a small pyre boat._

_“Maeve? Ana?” she asked softly._

_Maeve turned to face her, tears running down her cheeks._

_“He died defending his King. There is no greater honor than that.” Amrothos’ said, his voice carrying over the small group._

_“I know. I just wish there was a way for him to be buried beside mother.” Lothíriel said through her tears._

_“As do we sister.” the voice behind her, caused Sorcha to turn, Erchirion nodding to her as he walked past to join his siblings._

_“What if he could be?” Ana asked softly, causing her sisters and the sibling from Dol Amroth to look at her in confusion._

_“It is impossible. It is too far a journey back to Dol Amroth.” Lothíriel said sadly._

_“Maybe not.” Ana said, taking a step towards the boat._

_“Ana?” Maeve asked, looking from Sorcha to Ana. “You can’t-”_

_“Saphira and Eragon did. Why can’t we?”_ _[1]_ _Ana asked, crouching down beside the boat._

_Looking at each other in alarm, Sorcha and Maeve moved to crouch beside their sister._

_“_ _Ag neamhaird gur carachtair fhicseanacha iad-_ _{Ignoring the fact that they are fictional characters-}_ _” Sorcha whispered._

_“_ _Níl aon smaoineamh againn conas a rinne siad an rud a rinne siad._ _{We’ve no idea how they did what they did.}_ _” Maeve added._

_“Instinct.” Ana said, her voice taking on a far away sound, she reached out her hand and began to wave it up and down in the air. Soon, a small ball of light formed at the end of her fingertips. Mimicking her, Sorcha and Maeve soon had light at the ends of their fingertips. As one, they reached out and grabbed each other's hands, the light exploding in a shower of sparks, falling over the pyre boat where the body of prince Imrahil lay. Stepping back, the girls smiled and let the siblings approach._

_“Now time will not ravage him.” Ana said, before turning and walking away._

_“His body will be untouched by time until you lay him to rest alongside your mother. Maeve clarified._

_Leaving the siblings to make their arrangements, Sorcha and Maeve caught up with Ana just as she joined the present members of the fellowship at the head of the crowd._

_“It’s time Mithrandir.” a sad voice said._

_Sending out the signal, the string of boats began to sail away down the river, the tide pulling them out to sea. Amid the silent tears, Gandalf raised his staff and sent a wave of flame towards the farthest boat. At the same time, the girls sent a wave of power, causing the flame to split, the flame soon spreading along the rows of rope and boat until all the pyre boats were aflame. The moment the flame started to burn, the girls began to sing, their voices floating away on the breeze with the bodies of the dead:_

_When you're out walking and there's no one near you._

_But a voice keeps calling and you hear your name._

_It's not the leaves, or the whispering breezes._

_It's me that's calling you back again._

_Oh, can you hear me?_

_Oh, can you hear me?_

_As you roam through lonely Stoningland*._

_When evening's falling, you'll hear me calling;_

_Come on home now to the County Down._

_Do you remember the fiddlers playing,_

_The songs and stories the whole night long._

_It's little then that you thought of leaving._

_It seems so strange now that you are gone._

_Oh, can you hear me?_

_Oh, can you hear me?_

_As you roam through lonely_ _Stoningland*._

_When evening's falling, you'll hear me calling;_

_Come on home now to the County Down._

_I'm always dreaming that things are changing._

_And that they're re-building* a city* tall._

_And young ones needed again in Newry,_

_But I still need you the most of all._

_Oh, can you hear me?_

_Oh, can you hear me?_

_As you roam through lonely Stoningland*._

_When evening's falling, you'll hear me calling;_

_Come on home now to the County Down._

_Come on home now to the County Down._ _[2]_

_As their song echoed out across the air, the crowd began to disperse, one by one until only the members of the fellowship remained._

* * *

“Hope we didn’t keep you waiting.” Sorcha said as she, Maeve and Erchirion walked into the throne room. 

“Your pointy-eared princeling went to get Lord Éomer.” Gimli said as he plopped down on the throne of the Stewart and lit his pipe. 

Sorcha smiled and shook her head at the dwarf, before leaning against a nearby pillar to wait for the others. The tense silence of the room was broken a short while later when Legolas and Éomer arrived. Moving towards the two of them, Sorcha sipped her hand into Legolas’s and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder and they silently waited for someone to speak. Looking across the front of the throne, she caught Maeve’s attention, where she stood standing beside Erchirion. Nodding her head in Gandalf’s direction, the sisters sent a small wave of power towards the wizard, jolting him from his thoughts. 

“Frodo has passed beyond my sight.” he said finally, his voice echoing through the room as he began to pace. “The darkness is deepening. 

“If Sauron had the ring, we would know it.” Aragorn said, staring at a statue. 

“It’s only a matter of time.” Gandalf said, his voice full of defeat. 

“Time is the longest distance between two places.[3]” Maeve said softly. 

Seven pairs of eyes turned to look at her in confusion. Maeve simply smiled and fixed her gaze on Aragorn, who after a moment turned away. 

“He has suffered a defeat - that is all. Behind the walls of Mordor, our enemy is regrouping.” Gandalf said softly. 

“Let him stay there. Let him rot! What should we care?” Gimli asked, letting a smoke filled puff of air out into the room. 

“Because- “ Gandalf started, but stopped when Sorcha took a step forward and held up her hand.

“Gimli.” Sorcha said, her tone of voice causing the Dwarf to look at her. “We care, because ten thousand orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom.” 

“I’ve sent him to his death.” Gandalf whispered, his voice full of pain. 

Maeve moved towards the wizard and placed a comforting hand on his arm. 

“No.” Both Maeve and Aragorn said. 

Looking at the soon to be King, Maeve nodded and stepped away, allowing him to walk towards Gandalf. 

“There is still hope for Frodo.” Sorcha said from the other side of the room. 

Aragorn nodded at his sister's words “Frodo needs time and safe passage across the plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that.” Aragorn said, looking around the room. 

“How? Gimli asked. 

“Draw out Sauron’s armies?” Maeve asked, a grin on her face. 

“Empty his lands.” Sorcha added. 

Shaking his head at the antics from the girls Aragorn continued; “Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate.” he explained. 

Gimli let out a smoke filled cough at the words and Sorcha handed him a mug of water. 

“We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms.” Éomer said, stepping forwards. 

“Not for ourselves.” Erchirion said, his voice full of understanding as Aragorn’s plan formed in his mind. 

Nodding, Aragorn continued. “Not for ourselves. But we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron’s eye fixed on us.” 

“And blind to all else that moves.” Maeve, Sorcha and Erchirion said at the same time. 

“A diversion.” Legolas said, glancing at Sorcha in understanding. 

“Sauron will suspect a trap. He will not take the bait.” Gandalf said, turning to look at the girls then at Aragorn. 

Glancing over Gandalf’s shoulder, Aragorn watched as Sorcha and Maeve each took a step towards him and nodded. “Oh, I think he will.” he said, a smile on his face. 

* * *

“How did you know my uncle had this?” Erchirion asked as he and Maeve made the trek from the high tower back down to the throne room, a covered box carried between them. 

“Where my sisters and I come from, the tales of Denethor, steward of the White Tower are widely known. ‘Though the Stewards deemed that it was a secret kept only by themselves, long ago I guessed that here in the White Tower, one at least of the Seven Seeing Stones was preserved. In the days of his wisdom Denethor did not presume to use it, nor to challenge Sauron, knowing the limits of his own strength.’ [4] But his wisdom failed; and I fear that as the peril of his realm grew he looked into the Stone and was deceived: far too often.” Maeve explained. “It is said that in this way Denethor gained his great knowledge of things that passed in his realm, and far beyond his borders, at which men marveled; but he bought the knowledge dearly, being aged before his time by his contest with the will of Sauron. Thus pride increased in Denethor together with despair, until he saw in all the deeds of that time only a single combat between the Lord of the White Tower and the Lord of the Barad-dûr, and mistrusted all others who resisted Sauron, unless they served himself alone. [4]”

“Uncle was not the same after my aunt passed.” Erchirion said softly. “Many say that after the death of Finduilas, he became more grim and silent than before, and would sit long alone in his tower deep in thought, foreseeing that the assault of Mordor would come in his time. It was afterwards believed that needing knowledge, but being proud, and trusting in his own strength of will, he dared to look in the palantír of the White Tower.” he added. 

“I am sorry for the pain your family has endured at the hands of our enemy.” Maeve whispered softly. 

Setting the box on the stewards throne, Erchirion sighed before he replied “Ti’s no more pain than any other, for in all lands love is now mingled with grief.” Bowling low to Aragorn, he silently left the room. 

“Here’s the one Gandalf and Pippin brought with them.” Sorcha said, walking into the room with a cloth covered orb in her arms. “Gandalf and the others are waiting outside in the hallway for us to finish this.” she said, setting her stone at the base of the throne. “What of the rest of the stones?” Sorcha asked, looking at Maeve. 

“We know three were destroyed - The chief stone of the north, at Amon Sûl, along with the stone from Annúminas, was lost with Arvedui in the cold northern seas. The chief stone of the south, in Osgiliath, was lost during the Kin-strife. That leaves four. One of which we know was captured by Sauron when he took Minas Ithil.[5]” Maeve explained. 

“Well, two are sitting here.” Sorcha said, pointing at the stones. “And the fourth?” 

“We know that Sauron must have it. Otherwise, he’d have not been able to communicate with the others.” Maeve said softly. 

Silence fell over the group, interrupted by the sound of a crashing door and running feet. 

“Sorry I’m late -.” Ana said, gasping for breath as she slid to a stop. 

“Nothing now stands in our way.” Aragorn said, his voice taking on a faraway sound. 

“Wait.” Sorcha said, whirling to her brother. Reaching out, she spun him around, and with a soft muttering under her breath, she touched her ring to the chain holding the elfstone. A warm current travelled the length of the chain before she stepped back and nodded. “Now.” 

Silence fell over the group for a moment, each one waiting for someone else to make the first move. With a sigh, Sorcha moved first and Maeve and Ana joined her around the box. Slowly, Maeve reached out and pulled the lid of the box open. As one, the girls reached out with and each touched the Palantír, their rings immediately letting out a bright light. Looking over at her brother, Sorcha nodded encouragingly and Aragorn took a step towards the other stone, pulling the cloth loose from around the Palantír. With the sword of Elendil in his right hand, he reached out and picked it up. 

Ana and Maeve both let out soft gasps when a heartbeat later, the stone in Aragorn’s hand lit up with what looked like flames dancing around it. 

“Scanrúil {scary.}” Ana muttered. 

“You can do this Aragorn.” Sorcha murmured ignoring her sister. 

Suddenly the throne room was filled with the sound of the Dark Lord’s voice, the sound of the black speech, echoing through the room. “Elendil….”

Taking a deep breath, Aragorn began to speak, never taking his eyes from the Palantír. 

“Long have you hunted me. Long have I eluded you. No more!” With a flick of his wrist, he raised his sword high, clearly in the view of the Dark Lord who looked on Aragorn through the stone. “Behold the Sword of Elendil.” 

“Now.” Maeve hissed. 

At her words, the girls reached out and touched their stone, their vision filling with the sight that Sauron poured into Aragorn. Seeing Arwen laying pale and still as leaves blew all around her, Sorcha hissed and cried out; 

“No!” 

The moment the word was thought and said, the spell over Aragorn broke and he stepped away, the Palantír falling with a heavy thud to the stone steps. The girls, meanwhile, found themselves on the receiving end of the Dark Lords full power. The echoing screech of his voice from the stone drew the attention of the others waiting outside. Gandalf rushed into the throne room first, followed by Pippin, Erchirion, Gimli, Éomer and Legolas. One by one they skittered to a stop, seeing the flame and white light swirling in the air all around the girls. 

“No. Wait.” Aragorn said, seeing Legolas move to step towards Sorcha. 

A moment later, the sound of a rushing wind filled the room and the light/flames coming from the stone the girls held was sucked inward, followed by an outpouring of air that rocked the men backwards. Taking a step forward, Aragorn and Gandalf found three pairs of eyes looking up at them as they approached. 

“We’re alright.” Sorcha said, her voice sounding raw. 

“How is this possible?” Erchion asked in awe as he and Éomer gently helped Maeve to her feet. 

Gimli and Pippin did the same for Ana, who leaned heavily against the dwarf for support. 

“Sorcha mo grá - you're bleeding.” Legolas said, his voice sounding pained as he wrapped an arm around Sorcha’s waist and helped her to her feet. Glancing down at her hands, Sorcha grimaced at the bloody blisters on the palm of the hand that had touched the Palantír. 

“They all are.” Pippin said, drawing attention to the wounds on Maeve and Ana’s hands. 

Gandalf sighed and moved to the small side door of the throne room. Disappearing and reappearing a moment later, he motioned for the girls to be seated on the steps of the throne. 

“Sorry brother.” Sorcha said, looking up at Aragorn once she was seated. 

“Why?” Aragon asked in shock. “Had you not interrupted-.” 

“Not that.” Maeve cut in, sounding upset. 

“We’re getting blood all over your throne.” the sisters said in union, earning small smiles from the men around them. 

“Good to see your brush with the enemy did not strip the lassies of their humor.” Gimli commented.

A moment later, the sound of running feet was heard, followed by Lial and Lothíriel bursting into the room. 

“We came as quickly as we could. What-” Lial said, looking around the room. 

Fixing the girls with identical looks that caused the men to take a half step back, Lothíriel and Lial frowned and approached the girls. Without a word, they quickly and efficiently cleaned and wrapped the bleeding hands, earning them nods of thanks before they moved to leave the room. 

“Wait.” Ana said, stopping Lothíriel and Lial in their tracks. “Don't leave. You need to hear this as well.” 

Silence fell over the room for a moment before Gandalf’s voice broke the tension. 

“What did you see?” he asked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] So, this chapter started with a scene that was 100% inspired by Christopher Paolini’s Inheritance Cycle - - - Saphira and Eragon are his, as is the idea for the whole burial of Prince Imrahil. Having said that, I had to stay true to the books that way. Sorry.  
> [2] County Down - Celtic Women {The lyrics I changed to reflect LOTR are marked with an *. The resources I used are here:  
> http://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Gondor  
> [3] Tennesse Williams - The Glass Menagerie  
> [4] This is where I got my info from Denethor’s backstory: https://scifi.stackexchange.com/questions/22876/when-did-denethor-first-start-to-use-the-palantir-of-minas-tirith  
> Ps - I realized after I got to this point, that in the creation of my OC’s I’ve ended up with a family swap… Denthor married Finduilas {Princess of Dol Amroth and sister to Prince Imrahil}. While Prince Imrahil married Ealaighthe - Denethor’s sister.}  
> [5] https://lotr.fandom.com/wiki/Palant%C3%ADri 
> 
> Please check out my Pinterest board: https://www.pinterest.ca/whiterosefletch/the-stars/  
> And the playlist that goes along with this is also posted now. Listenable on Spotify (Stars and Prophecy - Linnea Fletcher)  
> Also....leave a review! <3


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